


Family Matters

by breakaway71



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Band as Family, Bisexuality, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Ghost Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family Dynamics, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Hugs, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse (Emotional), Resurrection, Reunions, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakaway71/pseuds/breakaway71
Summary: Ray accidentally-on-purpose adopts a dead teenage bassist. His life instantly gets more complicated, but the trade-off is more than worth it.(Now with ARTWORK at the end! ❤)
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms) (background), Julie Molina & Ray Molina, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson (Background), Ray Molina & Reggie, Ray Molina & The Phantoms
Comments: 1055
Kudos: 2123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom, y'all. This fandom has taken over my _life_.
> 
> This story is about halfway complete and the rest fully outlined, and should clock in at ~~8~~ ~~9~~ 10 chapters, around 25,000 words. I'll be posting a chapter per day until complete, barring something going extremely wrong in my life.
> 
> Tags will be added as needed to avoid over-spoiling the story.
> 
> Yes, the entire thing is from Ray's perspective. Yes, this will dig deep into personal headcanons and theories about season 2, all of my Reggie feels, and all the found-family joy a heart could ask for. (The whole band will be there! Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind, etc., etc., but the first chapter is definitely all about Reg.)
> 
> I owe profound thanks to tiptoe39 and ladyeternal, without whom I would never write anything, ever. They encourage me and challenge me and help me with plot difficulties no matter what, even when our fandoms differ by _lightyears_ , like at this particular moment. Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart. <3

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/134706723@N02/50470980008/in/dateposted-public/)  


Ray considers himself to be reasonably adaptable. You have to be when you have kids, because kids are never what you expect them to be from one moment to the next. They grow and change, and you have to grow and change with them to be a good parent. Particularly when you are the only parent left.

He is good at taking things in stride, he thinks. He's been prepared for boyfriends (or girlfriends!) and parties, for skipped classes and occasional secrets. He has been prepared to back any goals his kids set for themselves, always, and while he always hoped Julie would find her way back to music, he'd been prepared to help her find a new path if it came to that.

The hologram band took him by surprise, especially when he realized that Julie's ancient "projector" could not possibly be producing holograms that good (does she _try_ to forget he has based his entire career on image capture and projection?), but still, he kept his cool, prepared to wait for Julie to be comfortable enough to tell him the truth, which he put together himself easily enough. (The box of loft items Carlos left on the table helped with that, and he likes to think he kept his cool then, too. At least, there is certainly no evidence if he did have one small, very minor panic attack.)

The ghost on his couch, though. That one Ray is _not_ prepared for.

It's the bassist from Julie's band, the pale kid with dark hair. He's looking more rumpled today than when Ray saw them play at the Orpheum two nights ago, hair unkempt and red flannel pulled down over his hands. He's drawn his legs up and folded his arms around them, knees poking out of the large rips in his black jeans, and his face is hidden, pressed against his knees as he rocks forward and backward and shivers.

No, Ray corrects himself. The boy is not shivering, not cold. He's _shuddering_. Now that Ray is listening for it, he can hear the quiet sniffles, the occasional sob.

Ray is incapable of listening to a kid be in pain without trying to help, and so he places his keys and camera bag on the shelf as quietly as he can and makes his way over. Reginald, he remembers reading his name in one of the articles. Reginald, but his friends all called him Reggie.

"Reggie," Ray says, soft, and places a hand on the kid's trembling shoulder. No one is more surprised than he is when it actually connects, the fabric of the flannel shirt soft and worn beneath his fingers.

Reggie jerks, head coming up and eyes going wide. (They're green, Ray can't help but notice. Big and bright green and scared and sad.) "Ray!" And then he seems to notice Ray's hand on his shoulder, because his mouth drops and he scrambles backward until Ray's hand falls, then instantly looks regretful. "You can…you…you _know_ my _name?_ "

Ray blinks. That wasn't the question he was expecting. He blinks down at Reggie for a moment and then shoves his hands in his pockets and sits gingerly on the arm of the couch. Far enough to give Reggie some space, casual enough to maybe calm him down a little. "You do go by Reggie?" he asks, tilting his head.

"I-I, um, I, yes, sir! Yes." Reggie nods so hard Ray is a little afraid he might injure himself. Can ghosts get injured? He has no idea, but he didn't think ghosts could be touched, either. Or perform on stage in a popular venue with hundreds of people watching.

Ray obviously has a lot to learn about ghosts.

"Good." Ray tries a smile, which just makes Reggie's eyes go wider. "I'm Ray. It's nice to meet you, Reggie." He pauses, laughs. "Properly meet you. I think maybe we've sort of met a few times."

Reggie flushes like he's embarrassed. "You can…see me," he says, the words shoved out of him on a gasp. "You couldn't before." He blinks again. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, I never would have been in here if I'd known I was intruding, I—"

"Reggie," Ray says, and reaches over again, slowly, in case Reggie doesn't want to be touched. But they both watch Ray's hand settle on Reggie's arm, watch it squeeze gently. Reggie's skin is warm, which Ray finds unexpected, but then, what _isn't_ unexpected about this little encounter? "It's okay. I've known you boys were around for weeks now. I'm not mad."

"You're not?" Reggie asks, and it sounds desperate, somehow. Broken. Ray thinks: _This boy needs a hug._

So he lowers himself to the actual seat of the couch, turned so he's facing Reggie, and he opens his arms.

He doesn't know anything about this boy besides his music and his obituary, doesn't know how Reggie will react to the offer, but he somehow isn't surprised when Reggie all but throws himself into Ray's arms, burying his face in Ray's shoulder and shaking and shuddering and clinging as Ray murmurs nonsense to him and pets his hair like he does for Carlos and Julie when his children are upset. Reggie is so _solid_ in his arms, and Ray doesn't know how that's possible, and he guesses it doesn't really matter. Reggie is his daughter's friend, and Reggie is hurting, and Ray will do whatever he can to help. If what Reggie needs is a hug, Ray is more than happy to oblige. He's a hugger by nature, and most all of Julie's friends have gotten a patented dad hug from him at least once or twice over the years. This is no different.

"Oh snap," Reggie whispers after a time, his voice muffled by Ray's shirt. "I got your shirt all wet with, like, ghost tears. That's totally my bad." He's not making any move to shift away, though, so Ray doesn't stop running a hand over his hair and down his back.

"I don't think you have anything to apologize for," Ray tells him. "But you're clearly upset, and I've been told I'm a good listener."

"Oh, the _best!_ " Reggie says enthusiastically, and now he does move, the first time he's moved far enough away to look at Ray in several minutes. "I mean…you didn't always _know_ you were listening, but I could just tell. You have that vibe."

Ray raises an eyebrow. "I have a _vibe?_ " he asks, amused now.

Reggie nods, grinning widely before his eyes dim again and he starts pulling back into his shell, a visible withdrawal that makes Ray's heart ache.

"Well in that case, I definitely don't mind listening while I _can_ hear, for once." Ray keeps his tone soft, his voice even, and it's not unlike dealing with a skittish animal, though he hates the comparison for what it means for Reggie.

"Oh, I'm totally cool, all fine here!" Reggie says, but his smile this time doesn't reach his eyes, and when Ray only watches him silently, his sighs, scrubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his flannel. "Well, okay, I did something kind of stupid." He's staring down now, not meeting Ray's eyes, and has his arms wrapped around himself again. "I thought it would be cool to go looking for my grave? I know, I know, totally morbid, but like. I'm a ghost. I've accepted that and stuff. No big. I just got curious, I'm always curious, my dad always said—" He stops, swallows, shudders again. "So I went digging on Carlos's computer – oh, sorry about that – and found this 'Find a Grave' site and mine was listed so I went there and at first it was weird but kinda funny, you know? Like, _wow_ , there I am, six feet under. There's my name engraved on a slab of stone. There are movies like that." He blinks. His eyes are wet. "It took me ten minutes to even notice, but then I looked over, because I wanted to know who was nearby, like, you know, like maybe they're afterlife friends or something? But it was…it was my mom, and I…I didn't know, I didn't…she hated me, they both did, I mean they hated each other more and I was just in the way, but she was still—"

Ray can't take it anymore, his heart breaking for this poor kid in front of him, as solid and real as his own daughter even if he's meant to be a ghost, and he reaches out again, takes Reggie's hand and holds. "I'm so sorry, Reggie. That must have been hard. Death always is, even when it's complicated." He knows better than to say that of course she couldn't have hated him, no parent could hate their child, because he understands the sad fact that the world, and often the people in it, can be fucked up. It's not right, or fair, but there's no escaping it, and he doesn't think Reggie would appreciate pretty lies if that's all they were.

Reggie tries to shrug, but his lip is wobbling. "I shouldn't care. I was a ghost to them a long time before I actually died, and I doubt they cried for me, so why can't I stop crying for her? _Why?_ " he asks Ray, desperately.

"Because everybody needs people who care about them," Ray says, gentle. "And whether she did or not, you mourn for the possibility of that love. That's natural, Reggie, and it means you have a big heart. You deserved better from her. From both of them." He doesn't know these people, certainly can't imagine he was ever unfortunate enough to meet either of them, but he hates them, suddenly and savagely, for whatever they did to make their son feel so unloved and unwanted. "Everybody deserves a family, Reggie, and you obviously found yours. With Alex, and Luke. With Julie. They love you. It's obvious every time I watch you perform."

Reggie nods, and a true smile flickers out now between the sadness. "They're my brothers, and Julie…she's the sister I never had. I love them so much." He laughs a little; it comes out shaky, but it's real. "She saved us with the power of music and hugs, and she said she loves all of us, so I guess that must be true, right?"

"Julie never says things she doesn't mean," Ray promises, and there's a prickling feeling behind his own eyes now. "Which means you are definitely part of her family. And that includes me, and Carlos too."

Reggie's laugh now comes out like a sob, but Ray can't help but notice he's inching closer again. "I mean, Julie can see us all the time, not just when we play together, and she's also been able to touch us since we played the Orpheum? I didn't even know whatever magic she did made us real to other people, she's _always_ been special, she's just…Julie. But what if we go all ghosty again to you guys?"

"Once you're family, you're family, _mijo_ ," Ray assures him. "No take-backs in this household. Whether I can see you or not, I promise, you always have a place here. You are always real, Reggie, even if I can't see or hear or hug you. I'll know you're there until Julie tells me otherwise, and you'll always know I care."

Reggie is biting his lip, hard enough that he'd likely bleed if he could, and those green eyes are now swimming in tears that he's fighting not to let fall.

Ray folds Reggie's hand between both of his own. "I would have loved you boys solely for the fact that you gave my Julie her music back. You gave her her _heart_ back. That would have been enough, all by itself. But now I have also met you, Reggie. And you are worth loving just for you, for who you are. For your big heart and your big feelings and your tragic fashion sense."

That's all it takes for Reggie to give up entirely on trying to be strong, and in seconds, he's wrapped his arms around Ray for the second time that night. "I wish you'd been my dad," Reggie says. "You're a really good dad."

"Reggie," Ray sighs, smiling now. "I would be _honored_ to be your dad, if that's something you think you would like. You can even call me Dad, but only if you want to. I would adopt you tomorrow if ghost adoptions were a thing in California, but unfortunately I don't think they are. But hey, you kids make it big enough, maybe we can change that, eh?"

"You…you'd really…for _real?_ " Reggie gasps.

"For real." Ray squeezes him tight again and then pulls back to hold Reggie at arm's length, meeting his eyes. "You consider this your home, for as long as you want to, _mijo_."

_Forever,_ Reggie's eyes say, but he only swallows, and nods. And finally, softly, shakily, says, "Thanks…Dad."


	2. Chapter 2

Luke is pacing back and forth across Ray's kitchen. This, in itself, is not necessarily troubling. The boys are often in the house now that they know they're allowed, and most often when they are, it's to steal snacks they think Ray doesn't know about now that they can sometimes eat.

But snacking doesn't usually put that particular look on anyone's face, a strange mix of fear and anxiety and hope that makes Ray think whatever this is, it's probably about to make his day more interesting.

"Luke?" he says, leaning against the entryway between the kitchen and family room and crossing his arms.

Luke trips, which Ray admittedly thinks is funny but he manages to keep his laughter in check. "Um. Ray!" Luke says, and Ray allows his eyebrow to slide slowly upward.

"Yes?" When Luke fails to respond this time, Ray tries again: "Something on your mind?"

Luke leans back against the counter and drags a hand through his hair. "It's Reggie," Luke says, and alarm immediately tightens Ray's chest.

He straightens. "Is something wrong? Is he okay?"

Luke glances up, eyes wide. "What? Yeah. Oh, sorry, Ray. Nah, he's cool. It's uh…it's actually his birthday tomorrow?" He says it like a question, darting a quick glance at Ray and then away.

Ray hadn't known that, and isn't surprised that Reggie didn't mention it. He probably wouldn't have even thought to. Who might have cared in the past, besides his bandmates? He bites back a sigh and vows to do better. "I appreciate you telling me."

Luke shrugs, looking uncomfortable. "It meant a lot to him, all that stuff you said to him. Reg didn't have it great with his folks, he deserved better. I'm glad he found it." He's picked up a can opener from the counter and is fidgeting with it, still looking nervous.

"Do you have any idea what he might like for his birthday?" Ray asks, hoping further questions will help him get to the bottom of whatever has Luke so anxious.

"Yeah." Luke sighs. "Yeah, I do, but getting it's gonna be a problem." He slumps back against the counter again, putting down the can opener (thankfully before his fidgeting could break it, Ray notes with relief) and folding his arms tightly across his chest as he stares hard at the ground. "Reggie liked taking pictures. He had this old camera we found at a pawn shop, traded a broken six-string for it when we were thirteen and he took that thing _everywhere_. If music wasn't his thing, that woulda been, you know?"

Ray hadn't known, but he likes knowing now, because this, _this_ is maybe something he can share with Reggie. Lord knows Julie and Carlos could not care less about his work or his passion for photography. "Are you saying he might like a new camera?" Ray asks, tilting his head and considering. He has many old ones he no longer uses, and can't imagine Reggie would want anything brand new.

"Not exactly." Luke finally looks up, meeting Ray's eyes. "I'm saying he'd want that one. His old camera. With all the best photos he took, that he kept hidden so his folks wouldn't trash it all when they were pissed off."

"Luke…" Ray hesitates. "Is that even possible? It's been twenty-five years, wherever he hid these things—"

"They're still there," Luke says, too confident. Like he knows without a doubt. "They're in a big metal box we buried under my mom's rose bushes when the band started getting more gigs. We decided it was gonna be like one of those dumb time capsule things, like after Sunset Curve hit it big, we'd go back in twenty years or whatever and remember all the stuff from before that." His mouth twists. "We're a little late."

"The sentiment is wonderful, but I can't just go digging around your mom's rose bushes," Ray says gently.

"No, but I thought…" Luke stops, releases a breath and then takes in another, shuddering one. "We're more _real_ now," he says quietly. "Not always, but sometimes. I could…I could see them. My parents. I could finally tell them h-how sorry I am, and…" But he's already slumping again, shaking his head. "It's a dumb idea, sorry, you—"

"Hey, hey, none of that," Ray says, holding up a hand. "No ideas are dumb ideas in this house." He gets a minuscule smile from the boy, and considers. "Are you, in a very roundabout way, saying you would like my help in seeing your parents, Luke?"

Luke flushes. "That's not why I…but…" He swallows. Shrugs. Nods. "If. If you didn't actually think it was a terrible idea. You're a dad. You probably know better than me how they'd react to…all this. I just feel selfish now."

Ray has no earthly idea how he'd react to something like this, tries to imagine Julie dying and coming back 25 years later and can't even get that far before tears are swimming in his vision. But he thinks, if she did come back, he'd want to know. No matter how long it had been. "Not selfish," he tells Luke. "Just very human. I'd be happy to help, Luke. I'm honored you want me to."

Luke's already red face goes redder, and he looks up again from beneath the fringe of hair poking out from his ridiculous beanie. "Yeah?"

Ray nods. "Yeah. Let's do it."

*

Luke's parents don't live far, and as Ray pulls into the driveway, he appreciates the obvious care they have taken with their house and yard. He tries to do the same, but sometimes his yard gets away from him.

Luke, beside him, is a silent bundle of nerves, but he nods when Ray raises an inquiring eyebrow, and that's good enough for Ray. He steps out of the car and makes his way up to the door. Luke stays at his side until he reaches for the bell, and then he fades from view, a presence now felt only in the cool spot of air that raises goosebumps along Ray's arm.

Luke's mother opens the door with a smile, graying hair swept back into a bun, dust rag clutched in her hand. The lines on her face speak of hard times Ray can only imagine in his darkest nightmares. "Hi, can I help you?" she asks.

"I sure hope so," Ray says with a smile of his own. "My name is Ray Molina. The previous owners of the house where I live once rented out the garage to a rock band, which I believe your son was a part of."

"Oh!" Her hand flutters to her chest, and her smile wobbles but stays, warm and real. "Oh, you must be Julie's father. Please, come in!" She opens the door wider and Ray accepts the invitation with a nod of thanks. "My name is Emily. My husband, Mitch, is out at the moment. Your daughter was so kind, bringing us that song Luke wrote. There are no words for the peace it gave us after so many years."

Julie's visit is news to Ray, but not particularly surprising. His daughter would do anything for those she loves. "I'm so glad," Ray says. "She's a good girl. She doesn't like to think of people being in pain, if she knows there is something she can do to help." Ray likes to think she got that from both her parents.

Luke's mother smiles. "Please, have a seat," she says, and Ray does. She settles herself on the couch facing him. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Emily…" Ray pauses, leaning forward and folding his hands together. "What I have to say, it will be difficult to understand, and impossible to believe. I need to tell you this story, and it is… _extraordinary_. And I know it will be hard, but I ask that you listen all the way through."

Emily is frowning now, one hand raising to toy with the necklace she wears, worrying the silver between her thumb and forefinger, while the other smooths at her skirt. "I'll listen," she finally says.

And so Ray tells her. He tells her of his own wife's passing, of Julie losing her passion. She tells her of a loft in their garage filled with old instruments, and a faded demo album. He tells her of his daughter's way back to the music, of the band that gave her back her joy for it. He tells her of three lost boys who had nothing left except for each other and their music.

He tells her of miracles.

She's crying by the end, her hand now covering her mouth as she takes in great, gasping sobs, eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down her face. "It can't be, it can't be," she says, over and over.

Ray hesitates before rising slowly to his feet and crossing the distance to the sofa. He kneels before her and takes her free hand between his own. "I'm so sorry, Emily. I didn't tell you this to cause you pain, I promise. And I understand if you don't believe me."

"That's just it though, I…I think I do." Emily's hand is shaking as she lowers it and meets Ray's eyes. "The past few months, I…we felt him here, sometimes. A rustle of paper when there was no wind, a blown out candle on his birthday. We told ourselves it was our imaginations, wishful thinking, that we had to let him go. And then Julie brought us that song, and it was like a sign." Her laugh is a devastated thing, small and scared to hope. "Oh, God, he's really…he's really here?"

Ray nods slowly. "He's really here, Emily. If you like, I can show you the video of the performance later. But right now, I think I have something better."

And then Luke shimmers into view, kneeling beside Ray, his own eyes as wet as his mother's, and he takes the hand Ray is not already holding. "Mom," he says, and there are a thousand emotions in that single word that Ray feels he does not have the right to, things he knows he is being trusted with from a boy who does not trust easy.

"Oh, _Luke!_ " Emily cries, and Ray releases her as she throws herself into her son's arms. He makes his way back outside to afford them some privacy for this reunion.

Luke finds him out there after some time has passed, Ray leaning against his car and staring up at the sky, talking to his wife as he often does when he's overwhelmed with the world around him. Luke's eyes are red, but dry now, and he's smiling beneath that weary exhaustion that comes from an outpouring of emotions…even, apparently, when one is a ghost.

"Thanks," he says simply, and Ray nods, nudging his shoulder.

"I'm glad for you," Ray tells him.

"She wants me to start coming for Sunday dinners, she even wants me to bring Julie and the guys sometimes," Luke says with a disbelieving laugh as he rakes a hand through his already unruly hair. "Oh, and, she said digging up her rose bushes was totally cool."

Ray doubts she used the words _totally cool_ , but he appreciates the permission anyway, more so when she meets them outside with two spades and glasses of lemonade and another teary smile and she brushes a speck of dirt off of Luke's cheek.

Luke begins to fade before they reach the box, this time involuntarily. When the shovel slips through his suddenly translucent fingers, he gives a self-deprecating little smile. "I think I gotta bounce," he says. "Anyway, I'm already late to practice."

He says goodbye to his mother quietly, using all of his energy to give her one last hug and promising to be back soon, and then it's just Ray and Emily alone in the garden staring at an empty patch of air.

"I can't thank you enough," Emily says after a long moment, turning to Ray with bright eyes. "For being here with him, to explain. For everything you've done for those boys. For caring."

"It is a privilege to know them," Ray tells her honestly. "They're good kids, and my Julie loves them as family. They seem like they could use all the family they can get." He sighs. "I know it can't be easy, knowing Luke is so close but not being able to have him here, have him home, after all these years. But the boys are stronger together, and I don't really understand it, but somehow, Julie enhances that. She gives them life in a way I can't explain. I'm sorry Luke can't be here with his family who loves him, but I promise he always has a home with us, for as long as he needs it."

Emily abandons all pretense and embraces him, and it's several long minutes before either of them remember the box they came out here to find.

*

Reggie's camera is a vintage Nikon that has definitely seen better days, dinged and scratched and dirty. It reminds Ray so strongly of his own first camera that he has to swallow down a sudden sharp pang of nostalgia as he cleans it up in his workshop, running a soft cloth carefully over the casing, the lens, the flash, all the nooks and crannies that have clearly never been cleaned once since the camera was purchased. When he's done, he places it into the leather case he picked up at on the way home, and then begins sorting the photos that were also in the box.

He tries not to look at them, feeling it's an invasion of privacy until Reggie say's it's okay, but it's impossible not to notice: the kid's got a good eye. A lot of the pictures seem to be of the band, of course, but there are others Ray's eyes flit over as he neatens the pile, pictures of the ocean and sky, pictures of Hollywood at night, pictures of venues they played, pictures of people and places and things Ray hopes Reggie wants to remember.

The boys have lost their solid forms for now, so he takes the newly wrapped gift box downstairs and places it on the kitchen counter to wait. Julie sees it when she comes down for dinner and smiles knowingly at Ray, before winking at a seemingly empty space in front of the fridge.

Poor Reggie must be craving snacks, Ray thinks, and shakes his head fondly. "Sorry, Reg, you'll just have to wait," he says, and Julie laughs aloud at whatever Reggie's answer is.

"He's like an overexcited puppy," she tells Ray, and dances out of the way of something Ray can't see that makes her laugh again.

God, he loves her laughter.

It's two days until their next show, one Ray can't attend as he has a meeting with a client scheduled for the same night, but when he gets back he's thrilled to see Reggie bopping around with Julie and Luke in the kitchen as they come down from the high of their music. Alex, he assumes, must be off with Willie, and Carlos, for once, appears to have listened to his bedtime. (Or he's watching YouTube under the blankets, but checking on him can wait for a few more minutes.)

When Julie sees her father she grins brightly and tugs on Luke's arm. "Hey, you wanted to work on that song some more, right?" she says, and he blinks at her in a decidedly besotted way and lets himself be led from the house.

"School night, Jules!" he calls, and has no idea if she heard him or not but it doesn't matter. She's a good kid, she'll make her way back in when she's meant to. He definitely won't be watching from the window that faces the studio. Certainly not.

Reggie hasn't even waited for his friends to leave, already opening the fridge and digging out a mozzarella stick and tearing into it with wild abandon.

 _So,_ Ray thinks, hiding a smile. _They're strongest after a show._

It makes sense, really, as much as anything about them makes sense. And it's good to know.

"Sorry this is a little late," Ray says, pushing the box down the counter towards Reggie. "But Happy Birthday."

Reggie smiles, but there's a sad edge to it, and he sighs deeply as he takes the box. "Yup. Seventeen again."

Ray puts an arm around him and drags him into a hug that Reggie does nothing to fight, instead leaning into Ray immediately. "Listen. Last year: ghosts. This year: solid and able to interact with the whole world. Next year…who knows, _mijo_? I believe anything is possible. It would be a truly harsh God who forced anyone to stay a teenager forever."

"Thanks," Reggie says, and looks a little more like his usual cheerful self when he looks back down at the present in his hands. "Wow, you know you didn't have to—"

"Hey now, none of that," Ray says, shoving his shoulder gently. "And open it already. It was a joint effort, by the way."

Reggie gives him a confused look, but obediently tears the paper apart carefully and opens the box. " _Woah_ ," he breathes reverently, jaw dropping, hands clenching around the box so hard his knuckles turn white. "I…" Carefully, like he might break it if he moves too quickly, he lifts the camera out, running a hand along the red and black strap, a little faded but still fully functional. "How did you… Oh. Oh, _Luke._ He must have told you."

Ray nods, watching Reggie's eyes go misty as he holds the camera close and moves to sift through some of the photos. He pulls one out and stares at it for a long time, then shows it to Ray. It's Luke and Alex, arms thrown over each other's shoulders as they mug for the camera. They look so young. God, Ray wishes he could have known them then. Wishes he could watch them grow up now.

Reggie suddenly gasps. "Wait, Luke! Oh my god, _is he okay?_ "

Ray laughs, rubbing Reggie's shoulder. "You just saw him ten minutes ago, and he seemed pretty okay to me, yeah?"

"Yeah…" Reggie shakes his head, blinking hard. "Yeah, he did. So, his parents…?"

"Sunday dinners are gonna be a mandatory thing, apparently, or Emily has sworn she'll find a way to ground him. But they're okay. I think it was really good for him. Good for both of them."

"I can't believe he did that. For _me_. I mean for him too I'm sure, but also partly for me. That's so…" Reggie trails off, staring down at the box again, then back up at Ray. "Both of you. This is the _best_ , Dad." He doesn't even trip over the word this time, and Ray's heart feels like it grows three sizes. Reggie's eyes brighten and he bounces a little. "Wait, wait, does this mean you can teach me all your photography tricks? Is this gonna be like our _thing?_ "

"If you want it to be, then absolutely." Ray chuckles. "It'd be nice to have _one_ kid interested in my work."

"Oh I _love_ it!" Reggie says enthusiastically. "The way you capture angles and get the lighting so perfect, and that thing you do to make spaces seem more open than they are, I can't figure it out at all but it's _awesome_."

"I'll teach you anything I can if you promise you'll show me how you get some of those epic candid shots. I was never good at people," Ray admits, with complete honesty.

"Deal, deal, so totally deal!" Reggie places the camera back in the box and then throws himself at Ray, hugging him tightly like he's trying to make up for the last couple days when he couldn't hug him at all.

Ray absolutely doesn't mind. He thinks of Emily holding onto Luke like he was the most precious thing in the world, thinks of how often he held onto Julie and Carlos this past year like they would disappear if he let go for too long. Thinks about how many hugs Reggie has been lacking in his life, and holds on just a little bit tighter, a little bit longer. "Happy birthday, _mijo_ ," he says again, and carefully doesn't comment on the quiet sniffle that answers him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey Ray, can I ask you a kinda super personal thing?" Reggie asks one night. He's not corporeal tonight, not even visible; they've figured out by now that the boys are strongest the first few days after performing with Julie, before it starts to dissipate. First losing solid form, then visible, generally by the end of a week. But Ray can always hear Reggie now, even when there's no music involved.

"Sure, _mijo_ ," Ray says, because he knows Reggie loves to be called that, even if he tries to hide how much it means to him. "Shoot." He puts the paper he was reading down on the coffee table and pats the cushion next to him, even though they both know he won't be aware of the presence next to him in any tangible way.

There's a moment of silence, and then Reggie clears his throat from beside Ray. "I, um. I was wondering. How. How did you know you were in love?"

Ray whistles out a breath between his teeth. "Wow, when you go for it, you really go for it, eh?"

"I'm sorry, oh wow that really was too much, you don't have to—"

Holding up a hand, Ray tries to calm the panic he can already hear leaking into the boy's voice. "It's okay, Reg, I don't mind. Little curious what brought this on, but I don't mind." He removes his glasses, holding them in his hands as he considers his answer. "I was only in love the one time. She was my forever girl, you know? Knew it the moment I saw her, but the actual fall…"

Reggie is quiet, but Ray imagines he can feel a cool prickle along Ray's arm, and he can just picture the boy reaching over to try and offer comfort, obviously knowing this must be difficult for Ray to talk about.

And it is, but it's also…not. He loves talking about his wife. She was everything, and remembering her, talking about her, is one of the best ways he has to honor her memory.

"It was little things. Her laugh following me home at night, replaying in my head so it was the only thing I ever wanted to do, making her make those sounds again. Her smile, bright like sunshine but twice as radiant. Her smell, which I could follow even into my dreams. Her music…her music was with me always, the way she played and sang, the songs she wrote, especially the songs about me." He smiles, closing his eyes. "We had our own lives, of course, our own friends, and it wasn't just about wanting to be with her always, although I did, especially in that first honeymoon phase, as my _abuela_ called it. But it was more about the way going to her felt like going home."

"She sounds really great," Reggie says, voice soft, almost reverent, and Ray feels a deep pang that he never had a chance to meet her. She would have loved Reggie. She would have loved all of them.

"She was the best," Ray agrees. "And I miss her every single day. But she's here, in all kinds of ways. And I know she's watching out for us."

"Julie thinks…" Reggie pauses, clearing his throat, then tries again. "Julie thinks that she, your wife I mean, brought us here, somehow. Like, brought us to Julie, when Julie needed us to help her find her music again."

"I could so easily believe that, that she would find a way to do exactly that," Ray tells him. He doesn't even need to think about it to believe it. He knows his _Rosa_. "I believe she _did_ bring you to all of us, to fill that hole she left in our lives when she passed. She knew it would take something really special to fill it, and here you boys are." He can imagine the way Reggie's face must be flushed and embarrassed but happy, if Ray could only see him, and it makes his own smile widen. "Anyway, back to your question. I'm no expert, and I think maybe love is different for everyone. But that's how it was for me." He tilts his head. "You don't have to, but would you like to talk about why you asked?"

"No," Reggie says immediately, then, slower, "Well. There's…maybe somebody."

"Ooh? A special girl? Is she a ghost?" God, Ray hopes she is, for Reggie's sake.

"Um. Yeah, h-he is." Ray mentally facepalms, but Reggie keeps going before he can apologize for the assumption. "But it's like, really complicated. For one thing, he's got the hots for somebody else. I mean, we're talking serious hearts-in-eyes, destined love stuff here. I wouldn't have a chance even if he wasn't really, really, a hundred and twelve percent straight." There's a pause. "Actually he might not be totally straight, there was this thing with Alex when we were fifteen, but…anyway, either way, totally impossible, dude."

Given what Ray knows of Reggie's life…er, _after_ life…the choices were pretty narrow to begin with, and now he can see a big flashing arrow pointing directly at Luke Patterson. (And the hearts-in-eyes, destined love thing is something he is absolutely not going to think about now, something he's been actively avoiding thinking about since the very first time he saw Luke and his daughter on stage together sharing a microphone.) It's unfortunate, because he knows Reggie is right. Luke loves his band, loves his brothers, and anyone can see that plain as day, but it's a very different kind of love than Reggie means, and there's nothing Ray can do to make that better for Reggie, or easier to bear. Heartache, it seems, is no easier for a ghost than it is for the living.

"I'm sorry, Reg," Ray offers, though it doesn't feel like enough. "That's tough. People always say there are other fish in the sea, but it never feels that way in the moment. You know, my wife and I actually separated once, for about six months. Before Julie was born. We'd been married three years, and things were tight. Finances were bad, I couldn't find work, we'd been trying and failing to have a kid for over a year, we were fighting more than was fair to either of us…" He pauses at the sudden chill in the air, but it passes quickly and he slowly continues. "We still loved each other, but at that time, it just didn't feel like enough. We had a long talk, and decided to go our separate ways, just for a time, and see if we could work through some things on our own. We went to counseling, separately, and then later together, and came back to each other stronger than ever. And in all that time, I could not even think about anyone who wasn't her."

There's a quiet sniff. "That's so beautiful, Ray," Reggie says. "Thanks for sharing that."

"Bah," Ray waves it away. "It's all selfish, getting to talk about my love. Julie and Carlos know all my best stories about her, they get bored."

"I dunno if that's what I feel about…this other ghost," Reggie says, like they don't both know that Ray knows exactly who he means. "It feels big, but maybe not that big."

"Love grows over time, _mijo_. And can grow in different ways. This boy, he maybe won't ever feel the exact same way you do, but you love him as family first, yeah? And you know he shares that love. And that's not going anywhere."

"That's true," Reggie says, and there's a quiet sigh. "I'm not always good at talking. Or, maybe not talking, but saying the right things. Saying the things I mean to say. You make it seem easy. You make it easier for me."

"I'm glad I can do that for you," Ray tells him. Wishes so hard he could offer a hug. Reggie, he has learned, really likes hugs. Ray still doesn't think he had enough of them growing up. "And Reggie," he adds, tentative. "I hope it's clear, the boy thing doesn't bother me. Sexuality is not something you can control. I would never judge you. If you were worried, at all."

"It's kinda new to me," Reggie mumbles. "But that means a lot, Dad. Things are a lot different now than they were in 1995, huh?"

Ray _hmms_. "In many ways, yes. There is still hate, because some people will always need something to hate, but it's better, I think. I'm glad for it."

"Me, too," Reggie says.

They're both quiet for a long few moments. Ray would wonder if Reggie had departed, maybe feeling uncomfortable, but Reggie never leaves without saying goodbye. Sure enough, after the long pause, Reggie asks, "Do you have any pictures of your wife? Like, from when you met her?"

There are pictures of Julie's mom all over the house, but most of the framed ones are from later years, photos with the kids from vacations and outings, from birthdays and holidays. The earliest one is a wedding photo, her face radiant, framed by a lacey veil Ray can still remember lifting away as they said their vows.

"Of course," Ray says, and walks over to the bookcase, and the bottom shelf where the photo albums are kept. There are a lot of them, each labeled with the years the photos span, and he pulls out the one from 1996 with a smile, running his fingers along the cover as he brings it back to the couch and spreads it open on the coffee table.

"The Orpheum!" Reggie gasps when Ray finds the page he was looking for.

"Yup," Ray says. "Went there for a show. I can't remember the band that was playing at all, but our waitress…well, she took my breath away." He turns the page, and there she is.

"Rose!" Reggie exclaims, and now Ray blinks, startled. "That's Rose, that's… _oh my god_."

"Wait, Reggie. You knew her?" Ray asks. "You knew my _Rosa_?"

"She was, she, oh wow." Reggie is doing that thing he does sometimes where he's so excited he can barely speak, radiating energy Ray can feel even from an incorporeal, invisible ghost. "Rose was at our soundcheck the night we were supposed to play, she was…" He sighs deeply. "She was _hella_ fly, oh my god, _oh my god_ forget I said that. She just, she told us we were really good, and introduced herself, said she'd been in a couple bands herself. She was so nice. We gave her a shirt and our demo, and like. Luke hardcore flirted with her so I guess he has a type? _Wait forget I said that!_ Oh my god Luke is going to kill me. I'm gonna die _again_. Okay, I flirted with her too and I'm only saying that because of karma, please don't kill me a second time."

Ray is torn between horrified fascination and hysterical laughter, and his fingers trace over Rose's face in the photo as the laughter bubbles out of him. She's smirking in it, a breath away from the eyeroll she'd given their whole table when they'd tried to flirt with her. She's beautiful, even in her work uniform, with her hair pulled back and a towel slung over her shoulder. She was always so beautiful. How could Ray hold it against others for noticing the same?

"You know," Ray says suddenly, remembering. "Rose took pictures all the time at her job, all the shows she worked. I wonder…" He makes his way back over to the bookcase and pulls out a chunky album, one of Rose's from before they were a family, white and bedazzled with hundreds of tiny rhinestones.

Reggie laughs. "Nah, it's a rad idea, but we didn't even play, there's no way—"

"You don't know Rose," Ray says, smiling again as he cuts Reggie off, because _he_ knows Rose, and Rose never missed anything. He flips pages rapidly, then slows. Rose worked at the Orpheum for three years, the show in question should have been right in the middle…yes.

 _Sunset Curve_ , the marquee reads, and Reggie breathes out a quiet, " _Oh_." Ray waits a moment before flipping the page.

And there they are, right at the top of the page. Julie's boys, looking so young despite the fact that they haven't aged a day since. There's another boy with them, oddly familiar, but Ray forgets about him when he hears Reggie give a strangled gasp. "Reggie?" he asks, glancing over, though of course he sees only empty air.

"No, no, that doesn't make any _sense_ , why is he there?" The photo album abruptly moves to the side, closer to where Reggie is sitting. The photo beneath the band, Ray sees, is a candid shot of the unidentified fourth member of Sunset Curve, the rest of the boys no longer in sight, and there's another man nearby he seems to be looking at, wearing a cape and a top hat of all things…a top hat which he's tipping in the boy's direction.

"Reggie, who is that?" Ray asks, brow furrowing as he stares at the man, at the dark look in his eyes that Rose had somehow captured even with her cheap disposable Kodak. The answer feels huge, somehow. Far bigger than Ray is maybe prepared to deal with, but he has to know, because Reggie does not sound okay.

"That's Bobby," Reggie says, the words coming out strangled. "He…he changed his name to Trevor after we…and he stole all of Luke's songs that he could get away with, the stuff that wasn't on the demo or that we hadn't played live before. And…" There's a flicker beside Ray, like static on a bad television set, and he can hear the harsh breaths Reggie is trying to take in, gasping lungfuls of air that keep getting faster and more desperate sounding.

"Breathe, Reggie," Ray says, turning towards him, wishing like hell he could reach out and touch, clap a hand on Reggie's shoulder, grab his hand, hug him, _something_. But at least he can recognize a panic attack when he sees one. "You have to breathe with me. In and out. Come on, count with me. In, two, three, four five, hold…out, two, three, four, five." He repeats this several times, and it eventually seems to work. Reggie is still flickering, and the brief glimpses Ray get of his face make him seem even paler than normal. And scared. God, he looks scared. But he's breathing more or less normally, which right now is the best Ray can hope for.

He files away _ghosts can get panic attacks_ in his mental file of important facts about his kids, to review at a later date.

"The other guy in the photo is Caleb," Reggie finally manages to say. "He's a ghost, a super powerful…what's he _doing_ there though, why was he talking to _Bobby?_ He makes deals with ghosts, steals their souls to, like, do his evil bidding and give him more power and stuff, but Bobby wasn't a ghost as far as I know! And I would know!"

Ray is quiet for a long time, puzzle pieces clicking together in his head faster than he wants them to, because the picture they're creating is not pretty. A powerful spirit who can be seen by the living, who makes _deals_. And he knew this boy, this Bobby…who became Trevor Wilson, who went on to find success as a solo artist using stolen songs.

It's not adding up to anything good.

"Reggie, this…Caleb. He never makes deals with the living?" Ray asks, as carefully as he knows how, even though he knows it won't help.

"Well sure, I mean, the lifers who go to his club I guess, they give something up to be able to go and if it's the same thing he wanted from us, what he took from Willie, then… No. No, he wouldn't, Bobby _wouldn't_ have—"

The flickering returns with a vengeance, and it's almost vicious now, flashes like lightning, Reggie's face in so much pain, heartbreak written over every line, and then his hands are raking through his hair, clutching there, and there's a pause before he starts screaming, screams without sound, somehow, and there's wind in the house, and cold, and behind them a window shatters and the electricity in the house pulses wildly as Julie suddenly comes flying down the stairs.

"Reggie, _Reggie_ ," she cries, and thank god, she can see him, she can _hold_ him, exactly the way Ray wishes so hard he could do right now, and the silent scream slowly turns into gut-wrenching, soul-destroying sobs as the boy comes to terms with this new betrayal, this awful, awful betrayal.

"Alex, Luke, thank god," Julie says, and Ray hadn't realized the other boys were here, but he's glad they've arrived, though he can't imagine what this news will do to them.

"I should…" he starts to say, standing, though it goes against every paternal instinct he possesses. But then there's a whimper and Reggie says, "No, please, Dad," and a warm hand is grasping desperately for his own. It's a strange sensation, solid and intangible, hot and cold by turns, flickering fast enough that Ray never loses his grip on Reggie, but it feels like electricity dancing up and down his palm and around his fingers.

He holds on for dear life to this boy he has claimed as his own, as Julie takes a seat on the couch and sandwiches Reggie between them. He can't see the other boys, but he can feel them at their backs, can hear them speaking words of comfort to Reggie, asking him _what's wrong, Reg, what happened, are you okay_.

"I'll stay," he promises quietly, and Reggie squeezes his hand in gratitude, unable to talk, flickering madly in his pain, leaving Ray to explain what they found to the others over the rising tide of their own disbelieving agony.


	4. Chapter 4

"Reggie is asleep," Julie says, coming back downstairs and tucking herself in against Ray's side on the couch. She releases a quiet sigh. A blanket lifts and drapes over her, and she smiles a little, though her eyes are still shadowed in a way Ray hates to see. "Thanks, Luke," she says softly, and tells her father, "Alex already left, he's looking for Willie. Caleb hasn't made any kind of move since the night at the Orpheum, but this has Alex kinda freaked."

"I don't blame him," Ray says; now that he's been filled in on the Caleb Covington situation, he's kinda freaked too. He can't even imagine what the boys are going through. Thank god they broke free from whatever curse Caleb tried to place on them.

He remembers Reggie telling him that first night, _Julie saved us with the power of music and hugs,_ but he hadn't known he should take the words so literally.

And then on top of it, to know that someone they'd considered a friend had betrayed them so horrifically…that their deaths were perhaps not the tragic accident they'd believed for so long but the work of something – and _someone_ – much more sinister…

_Freaked_ does not quite cover it, in Ray's opinion.

Julie holds her hand out on her other side, wraps her arm around someone only she can see.

"Luke," Ray says quietly. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to bring more pain into your lives. I certainly never intended to."

The emotional intensity of the night has left Luke without a voice to anyone but Julie and his bandmates, and so Julie translates for him. "Luke says he can't accept your apology because it's dumb. _Ow!_ Okay, I added that last part in myself, but seriously, Dad. You couldn't have known. And it's better this way…now at least the truth is out there. Even if it sucks."

It does suck. It sucks a lot.

Ray knows Trevor, a little, or did once. Trevor had been friends with Rose when Ray and Rose first met, and Ray thinks they possibly even dated for a brief time. They remained acquaintances for years, but that soured quickly when Trevor made it big, and Rose would never talk about why she was angry.

Possibly, Ray realizes now, it was because she found out that the music he used was stolen from a dead friend, a friend she had met, a boy who had flirted with her years before.

Someday, he's going to give Luke so much hell for that. But not tonight.

"We have a gig tomorrow," Julie says, sounding more exhausted then excited. "I don't know if—" She pauses, then smiles a little. "You know I have all the faith in you guys, but this is a big deal. Reggie was a mess, and mental health comes first. If we have to cancel, it's not the end of the world… Yes I _know_ , I know, music is life, I get it." She sighs. "We'll have a band meeting before school and talk about it then. You should get some rest, too… I know… I know, Luke. Me too. I'll see you in the morning." Her arm lifts, fingers wrapped around a knot of air, and for a moment, Ray can see their fingers clasp, tangle, hold, before her arm drops again and she and Ray are alone.

This is not the night to talk about this. This is absolutely not the night to talk about this.

"So, you and Luke, huh?"

They're going to talk about this.

" _Dad_ ," Julie squawks, flailing, but he wraps his arm more securely around her before she can escape.

"Jules, calm down," he chuckles. "This is not an intervention, just a conversation. We don't keep secrets from each other, remember?" He holds his finger out, and she eyes it before she sighs and taps her own against it, twists them together. A reminder. A promise.

"I know, I just. I'm not even entirely sure what we are, and it's obviously…" She waves a hand.

"Complicated," they say together, and he smiles as he bumps his head against hers.

"I tried, you know? Flynn realized even before I did, and she told me all the reasons it was a bad idea, like I didn't already know, and I _tried_ to forget about it. Nick even asked me out – actually, he keeps asking me out – but I just couldn't. I couldn't say yes knowing I'd spend the whole time thinking about somebody else." Julie plays with the bracelets on her wrist, twisting them around and around her fingers. "I didn't mean to fall for him," she whispers. "I really didn't."

"We never do, _mija_ ," he tells her, thinking of Rose. Thinking too of Reggie's earlier confession. "Anybody with eyes in their heads can see there's something there. You mean a lot to him, too. But…"

"Complicated," she says again. "I know. It's better, now. I mean, at least sometimes when I'm talking to him now I don't look like a complete crazy person. And the hugs are…well, they're really nice." She smiles to herself, but it fades quickly and she shakes her head. "But also, I don't want to wreck the band. What if we got together, and even ignoring the ghost stuff it was a complete disaster? I mean he's _Luke_ , it would pretty much _have_ to be."

Ray snorts. "Kind of a cocky son of a bitch, is he?"

" _Dad_ ," Julie says, shocked into laughter. "But, well. Yeah." She smothers a giggle into his arm and he ruffles her hair. Then she adds, "But to be fair to him, it's covering over a lot of insecurities, and he's starting to let me see some of those. And he has such a big heart. I wish you could have seen the song he wrote for his mom. It was so beautiful."

"I saw how he was with her, and it sure was. And I see how he cares for you." Ray lifts a corner of the blanket, and Julie flushes.

"I don't know what to do," she admits. "That night, at the Orpheum…before they appeared on stage, I was so afraid it was too late, that I'd already lost them. And I hated myself for being too scared to tell him how I felt. And after, when I went into the garage and they were there, and they were _dying_ , I can't…it was the worst feeling, _Papi_." She rarely uses that name for him, and hardly at all since her mother passed away. That she uses it now tells Ray how much the memory still hurts, and he hates that he wasn’t there for her, and for them, sooner.

"And when you saved him with the power of hugs?" Ray asks, tongue-in-cheek, trying to diffuse the tension, and it must work because she swats at him.

"Reggie is the worst brother," she says, obviously meaning none of it because she's smiling, sheepish but real. "I…when I held him, it was…" She's blushing furiously now, but there's something in her eyes, something Ray recognizes so well, and that makes his heart ache for her because he can see that she's already chosen, even if her brain has not quite caught up with her heart yet, and he knows it won't be an easy road. "It was _right_ ," she whispers. "I love them all so much, they've all given me _so much_ since coming here, and I would do anything for any one of them, but Luke is…"

"Different," Ray offers, and she nods.

"Different."

"Only you can decide what to do with that, _mija_. No, it won't be easy, and yes, it is very complicated. But I'm not sure any of that matters, if you've already fallen."

She sighs again, snuggles closer. "I just wish there was a way to be sure they were safe. That's what I want more than anything."

"So say all of us who have ever had people we've loved," Ray says, pressing a kiss into her curls and then wrapping his arms around her and holding on, content to do so for as long as she'll let him.

*

Things always seem easier in the morning that at night, and that seems to hold true the following day, sunshine streaming in through the windows and lifting Ray's spirits as he sets the coffee going and starts on making breakfast. Halfway through frying up the toast, he sees a pen lift from the counter, and words appear on the magnetic pad on the fridge.

_I don't think you can hear me right now, but thanks, Dad._

Ray nods, unable to find his own words past the lump in his throat, and a moment later he hears Julie heading out to the studio and her band meeting, and realizes Reggie must have followed her. He slumps against the counter, hurting for his kids in so many different ways, and when Carlos makes it down the stairs in a loud clatter a few minutes later, he is clearly baffled to find himself victim of an attack hug from his father.

"You're being weird," he says, but pats Ray on the arm in a consoling manner and accepts the hug with otherwise good grace. Ray's got some pretty great kids. "Is Reggie okay?" Carlos asks when Ray finally lets him go. "I said hi to him this morning but he didn't answer me."

"Reggie had a rough night, but he's okay I think," Ray tells him, hoping it's the truth. "The boys got a shock, and it stole their voices away from us temporarily, but Julie's looking after them."

Carlos nods, so Ray assumes he must have made it make sense well enough. That's something.

"And we're playing tonight," Julie says, coming into the kitchen and pressing a kiss to the top of Ray's head as she grabs her own breakfast. "So you and Reggie can get back to your video game championship in no time."

Carlos gives a big satisfied smile. " _Awesome_. Is he here now?"

Julie nods, pointing in the direction of the counter. "Of course, you think he'd miss breakfast even when he can't eat it?" She ruffles her brothers hair, expertly dodges his swipe.

"Hi, Reggie!" Carlos says in the direction his sister indicated. "I'm sorry you had a bad night."

"He says thanks, little dude," Julie translates dutifully. "And he says he can't wait to get back to kicking your—Reggie, I am _not_ saying that with Dad sitting right here, he'll yell at me because he'll feel too guilty to yell at you right now!" She clears her throat and turns back to Carlos, who is snickering. "He's looking forward to beating you again when he can hold the game controller."

God, Ray loves his family.

"Will you be up to playing tonight?" Ray asks Julie gently. "I don't want you to overdo it, _mija_. I know it's important, both for your dreams and for other reasons, but not at the expense of your health or theirs."

"We talked about it," Julie says, "and everybody was on board. Playing is what we need right now, more than anything. There's been no sign of Caleb in over a month. If he's still around, maybe he's lost interest in them, since his mark stopped working. That picture was old, and despite all the bad things about it, it has nothing to do with now."

That sounds extremely overly hopeful to Ray, who is generally a big fan of being hopeful. But not when the cost for being wrong could be so high. "Well, I'll be there this time," he says. "Long as you don't mind your old man hanging around."

"Never," Julie says, the gap between her teeth peeking out as she gives him a big smile. "Flynn will be there, too, as long as she doesn't get grounded for failing today's history test."

"A test which I am sure you studied for adequately yourself, yes?" Ray inquires lightly.

" _Yes_ , Dad," Julie says, rolling her eyes at her father. "Alex helped actually. He's really good at remembering names and dates and stuff, and he has a great flashcard system. And Reggie's been helping me catch up in math, he's crazy good with numbers! Luke…" She snorts. "Okay, Luke mostly sits and watches and looks cute but he tries to be helpful."

"Hmm," Ray says, noncommittal, earning another eyeroll. In Reggie's direction he says, "Thank you for helping Julie, because our girl here is _hopeless_ with numbers. And please extend my thanks to Alex, too."

Julie eyes the spot where Reggie is standing. "He looks way too smug for his own good, I don't like this." She points her fork at Ray. "Stop that. They don't need the encouragement."

Ray mimes zipping his mouth shot, but tosses a wink in Reggie's direction when Julie is turned away.

He thinks again, _God, I love my family_ , and then he thanks God for them, and then he thanks his wife as well. Moments like this, he knows, are a gift, one he tries to always remember to cherish properly. He knows how lucky he is to have the people – and now, the ghosts – he has in his life.

Ray remembers Julie's words from last night. _I just wish there was a way to be sure they were safe. That's what I want more than anything._

He knows exactly how she feels.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, _mijo_ ," Ray says to Carlos on a bright, sunny Saturday, snagging his son around the shoulders as Carlos tries to edge past him to the stairway and, undoubtedly, his video game console. "Pick, A or B." The band is rehearsing in the studio – although there is more laughter than music being made at the moment – which means it's a perfect time to do something Ray has been meaning to do for weeks.

Carlos eyes him warily. "I can't choose without knowing the specifics of the choices I'm being offered," he says, sly.

Ray can't deny that the kid has been well trained. "A, you go on an adventure with me, B, you hang out with your _Tía_ for a few hours."

"What's the adventure?" Carlos asks, still suspicious. When Ray tells him, his eyes light up and there is no more hesitation as he says, "A, definitely A!"

Yeah, Ray figured that's what he would say.

*

The Peace Valley Cemetery is a small community cemetery less than a mile from the Patterson residence. It's their first stop because it is the closest, and the simplest to find.

Ray isn't entirely sure why he's so set on doing this. It won't be the same as visiting his wife's grave, where he can sit and talk to her and believe she is listening. Talking to the boys that way would feel wrong, when they're ten minutes down the road, making music with his daughter and waiting for them to return. Still, he has to go. Has to see the graves for himself, though he knows it will hurt.

It's a necessary hurt, he thinks.

Luke's grave is easy to find, a small plot with a modest stone tucked beneath a tree, right off the main path. There are fresh flowers there, and Ray suspects Emily and Mitch visit often. _Luke Mitchell Patterson_ , the stone reads. Below his birth and death dates, _Beloved Son, Beloved Friend_. And finally, there is a small picture below that: a single music note. Somehow, that's the most heartbreaking thing about it all. That small message of acceptance, offered too late.

Carlos has already knelt quietly by the grave, running his fingers over the flower petals. They are simple carnations, cheerful and warm.

Ray kneels beside his son, and from his pocket, he pulls a guitar pick, one of many from his wife's collection. This one is shimmery because she'd always liked things that sparkled. He kisses it and places it on top of Luke's grave, lets his hand rest there for a moment, before he pats Carlos on the shoulder and they stand together.

Reggie's body was laid to rest in a place called Shady Grove Cemetery, almost forty minutes north of the city. Ray lets Carlos play with the radio as they drive, but otherwise, they remain mostly silent. It seems even Carlos can't deny the gravity of what they are doing, and while at first it may have seemed like a fun adventure, something he could laugh about with his friends waiting back home, it is clear he no longer feels that way.

Ray's first impression of Shady Grove when they arrive is that it is, indeed, very shady. It's a dark little cemetery, dreary in a way cemeteries shouldn't be, in Ray's opinion. The grounds are unkempt and many of the graves have fallen over on the uneven earth. Carlos reaches for Ray's hand as he stares around, frowning, and they walk together until they see a familiar name.

_Reginald Weekes_ is printed on the small dark stone, and two dates. Nothing else.

Anger has Ray's jaw clenching, his hand tightening around Carlos's, before he closes his eyes and forces himself calm. He can do nothing about Reggie's past. All he can do is be the family Reggie needs now. The family he deserved all along.

Ray brushes a few specks of dirt from Reggie's gravestone and kneels before it. There, he places an overflowing pot of lilacs, because they were cheerful, and reminded him of Reggie somehow when he saw them in the store. On top of them, he adds a single dahlia, a silent welcome to the family he extends on behalf of his wife, because he knows she would have approved. She would have loved Reggie as she loved her own children.

It is Carlos who places the guitar pick this time, one he'd picked from his mother's collection, the red and black coloring of it swirled together in a marble effect. He kisses it as Ray had kissed Luke's and places it right on top of the stone. It is brighter than everything around it, glittering in the single tiny sunbeam that can reach it here.

"Perfect," Carlos says softly.

"Perfect," Ray agrees.

They stay there for a long time. Before Ray can suggest they move on, or they risk losing the daylight, Carlos speaks again.

"I'm really glad you made Reggie my brother," he says.

"Yeah?" Ray looks over, then tugs Carlos in against his side.

"I think he needed us." Carlos tilts his head. "And I think we needed him, too. He's not like Mom, but he still fits. Like there was a puzzle piece missing when she had to leave, and he was the right shape for it. The picture isn't the same, but it's still complete."

"That's very deep," Ray says, a little teasing, but he softens it with, "And very wise. I think you might be right."

"He's a pretty good big brother, too," Carlos adds. "Not just because he plays games with me and helps me with my homework, but he talks to me about stuff the same way Julie does. Not like I'm some stupid little kid but like what I say matters."

Ray releases a slow breath, eyes pricking. "I'm really glad to hear that."

"But that makes this kind of depressing," Carlos says, looking around at the desolate cemetery and giving a dramatic little shudder. "I'm glad we came, but…can we go now?"

"Yeah," Ray says, feeling exactly the same. "Yes we can."

He doesn't spare the grave of Reggie's mother a single glance, which is about the most respect he can muster for the woman he never knew, and far more respectful than he thinks she deserves.

It's coming up on two o'clock as they pull out of Shady Grove, and their final stop is back towards home, so they take a quick break for a diner lunch before beginning the drive back to LA. Carlos doesn't even fiddle with the radio this time, lost in his own thoughts as he stares out the window with his chin propped up on his hand.

Ray saved Falk Heights Cemetery for last because it was the largest of the three, doubling as a park where people go walking, and he was afraid they would have to drive around and around for hours before they could locate the right plot. But the small signs are surprisingly helpful, and Ray finds the section they're searching for more easily than he'd anticipated. From there, it's Carlos who locates Alex's grave, and they both pull up short.

There is a woman already there, tall and blonde. She is standing at Alex's grave marker with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, head bowed before she sighs and looks up and around. Her eyes fall on Ray and Carlos, and her brow furrows.

"I'm very sorry to intrude," Ray says quickly, stepping forward. "We were here to visit a…friend." He nods to the grave marker before her, a white marble stone that reads _Alex Williams, Who Lived As He Died, With Music In His Soul. Beloved Son & Friend._ "You knew Alex?" He can't help but notice that she has planted a new rainbow flag at the marker, and is clutching an old one, faded and torn, in her hands.

Her confusion grows, the lines on her face deepening. Ray places her somewhere in her sixties, though there's not a speck of gray in her hair, just California blonde that looks natural. "Alex was my son," she finally responds. "How on earth did you know him? I don't think I've seen you here before, and Alex didn't have many friends at school besides…" She trails off.

"Ah, no, I wasn't," Ray says, shrugging lightly and putting on his best _I swear I'm harmless_ smile. "It's a funny story, really. My family moved into the property where your son used to practice with his band." He watches her eyes brighten. Alex's music had never been a problem for this woman, obviously. "A little over a year ago, my wife passed away. It was a very difficult time for all of us, but especially my daughter, who used to write and play music with Rose. While cleaning out the old studio, she found a copy of your son's band's demo CD. Your son helped her find joy in music again." _Well, it's the truth,_ Ray thinks _if not quite all of it_. "I'd hoped to say thank you."

"Oh…" The woman, Alex's mother, smiles now. "That's so nice. Alex would have loved to know that." She steps aside and Ray and Carlos join her.

"You were close to your son, then?" Ray asks before he can stop himself, and even Carlos, at his side, winces.

But she only sighs. "I always loved him, and I hope he knew that. But…" She indicates the rainbow flag. "He came out to us the year before he passed, and…sometimes I'm afraid he died thinking I hated him. Certainly his father never forgave him for being gay, even after he was gone."

Carlos looks back and forth between his father and Alex's mother and wisely steps away, going to kneel before Alex's grave with the final guitar pick offering.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ray says. "Every time I fight with my children, I go to sleep fearing that will somehow be the last thing they remember, and it terrifies me. I didn't know your son then, but I think, to be the musician he was, he must have had a big heart. I think he probably knew you cared, loved him, despite your arguments."

"I hope so," she says. Then she shakes her head, holds out her hand. "Forgive me, I'm Christine."

Ray shakes, introduces himself. "Ray. It's a pleasure, Christine. Tell me, do you have any other children?"

Christine smiles warmly at him, the way he's found that nearly all parents do when asked about their kids. She so clearly wants someone to talk to. "I have a daughter. Alex never got the chance to meet her, she was born a year after he died, just before the divorce." She hesitates, then lifts her chin a little, like she expects a confrontation. "She's transgender, and married to a woman." When Ray remains silent, listening, the fight goes out of her and she nods. "After everything we put Alex through, it's like God was giving me a second chance to get it right, but I wish, I _wish_ I'd gotten it right the first time around. Annie and her wife have a daughter as well. My grandbaby. She's two, and they named her Alexa after the brother Annie never got to meet. I tell you truly, she looks just like her namesake. She could be his twin."

"That's lovely," Ray says, mind reeling. All he can think in that moment is that Alex deserves to know this.

"I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this," Christine says, laughing a little. "You're somehow very easy to talk to."

Ray beams at her. "You wouldn't believe how often I've been told that. And thank you, it is a wonderful compliment. Sometimes, I find, it's just a matter of being in the right place at the right time. And I like hearing about your son, I feel as though I know him through his music, as often as Julie plays it." He pauses, then says as casually as he can, "I don't mean this in any way untoward, but perhaps I can get your number? Only, I sometimes come across oddball things that were left behind in our loft, such as that CD my daughter found, and it would be nice to be able to contact you if I find anything of Alex's you might like."

"Oh, goodness, I can't tell you what that would mean to me," Christine says, and allows him to program her number into his phone before glancing at her watch and cursing. "I'm so sorry, I've got to get going, but it was wonderful to meet you, Ray. Thank you, so much."

He nods to her, and watches her brisk walk as she departs. When she's out of view, he sighs a little and turns back to the grave, remembering his original purpose in coming here. Carlos has already placed the pick, and he smiles up at Ray.

"That was a good thing, wasn't it?" he asks.

"I think it could be," Ray says with a nod. "Which means we should probably get home before it gets any later. Can you keep your mouth zipped until I've talked to Alex properly?"

Carlos zips his mouth shut and throws away the key because he really is a great kid.

*

Reggie is the first to look up when Ray knocks on the door to the studio and pokes his head inside. He grins from where he's flopped back on the couch, strumming his bass guitar and humming to himself. "Hey, Dad!" he says cheerfully. (And yeah, Ray's heart still does that growing and squeezing thing, every damn time.) "If you were hoping for a preview of the next show, you're too late. Julie and Luke had a song idea and we lost 'em." He nods over to the piano, where Julie and Luke are indeed seated together, heads bent close, scribbling furiously in a battered old notebook. Ray watches Reggie carefully for any sign of jealousy or sadness, but senses nothing in him but amused affection.

"Actually, I was hoping to borrow Alex, if he's still here," Ray says, looking around. He doesn't see the drummer anywhere, but with these particular boys, that means very little, and sure enough, Alex appears at the sound of his name, waving down from the loft.

"Sure!" he says, and appears quite suddenly in front of Ray.

Ray nods towards the house, and Alex follows wordlessly, hands shoved in his pockets. They head inside and into the kitchen, where Ray sets about getting dinner started just to give his hands something to do.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping, Alex, but," Ray hesitates, because the boy already looks troubled, but he decides to bite the bullet, not wanting to withhold the information for longer than necessary. "Your family."

Alex stiffens. "We weren't close," he says. "Not at the end. It wasn't like Luke and his parents, I was still living at home, but Dad wouldn't talk to me at all, and Mom started crying every time she saw me after I came out."

"I figured it was something like that," Ray says. "Alex, I'm sorry to bring up bad memories. It's just, we saw your mother today."

He chances a glance up just in time to see Alex's face slacken. "What? You…you did? Where?"

"She was visiting you," Ray tells him, keeping his voice gentle. "She seems to do so regularly. She was planting a rainbow flag at your grave and talking to you, I think, before Carlos and I accidentally interrupted her."

Ray is glad Alex doesn't ask what they were doing at the cemetery, because he doesn't know how he would answer. He barely has an answer himself. Maybe it was Rose, leading him there today, at the exact right time. "A rainbow… _really?_ " Alex seems incredulous.

"Really. Carlos can confirm if you don't believe me."

"No, I do, it's just." Alex runs a hand through his hair. "I never would have expected that. She was so…she acted like I betrayed her by being gay. Like, I dunno, like I was doing it to get back at her for something. She was never the same after. Did she…did you talk to her at all? Did she seem okay?"

"She seemed well," Ray says, and takes a seat, indicating to the stool next to him for Alex to join him. "I don't want to push. But would you like to know what she told me?"

For a minute, Alex seems undecided, chewing on his lip and staring at the counter, but then he nods. "I think I'd like that."

So Ray tells him about the unexpected meeting, what Christine had looked like and how she had spoken of Alex and her regrets, of the divorce she got soon after he was gone, of his sister and her wife and their daughter, Alex's niece.

Alex seems overwhelmed, eyes getting wider and wider as Ray talks, and when he hears about Alexa, he raises a shaking hand to his mouth. "That's so _much_ ," he whispers. "I never knew…I didn't want to go looking for them, because—"

"I don't know where your mother is living now," Ray says. "And I don't know if you would want to see them. I know family is complicated and past hurts can be hard to forgive. But if you ever think you might want that, if you ever want to try, I have Christine's phone number. It's yours the moment you ask."

A tear spills down Alex's cheek as he nods. "Not…not yet." He wipes the tear away with his fingers. "I'm definitely not ready for that yet. But maybe someday?" He says it like a question, so Ray nods.

"I just thought you should know," he says.

"Thank you, Ray. Really." Alex swallows hard, sniffs.

"I might be overstepping a second time, but…would you like a hug?" Ray stands and holds his arms open in offer, and Alex hesitates for only a moment before nodding fast and stepping into the circle of a patented dad hug.

"Reggie's right," Alex says after a long time. "You're really good at this."

"I'm always around for hugs," Ray tells him. "And you boys should never feel bad for asking if you need one. None of that macho hugs-are-for-wimps crap in this household, got it?"

Alex laughs a watery little laugh and nods again. "Got it."

"Now," Ray says, when Alex eventually pulls away. "One last time before you tell me to mind my own business. Is everything all right? I couldn't help but notice that you seemed tense before I ever dropped a family bombshell on you. Is it…the other night…?"

"No, not that." Alex sighs, dropping back onto the stool and putting his head in his hands. "Although that sucks too. No, it's Willie. I haven't seen him in days, and I'm worried. It's not like him to disappear, not completely. We were supposed to meet up after last night's gig, and he never showed. His eyes, when they meet Ray's, are filled with worry. "What if Caleb found out he was helping us before? What if he hurt him to get back at us?"

There is nothing Ray can say, not a single promise he can make. He can't swear they'll find Willie. Can't reassure Alex that if Caleb hurt him, they would know. Willie is a ghost Ray has never met, _can_ never meet, not properly. Not like the boys of the band, who he can see and touch and speak with. Ray could pass Willie on the street and never know it. Still, he lays a hand on Alex's tense shoulder and says, "Have faith, Alex. I know it's hard. I know the universe can be cruel. But try to have faith. Willie cares about you; if Caleb does have him, Willie will find his way out and back to you."

"What if he can't?" Alex asks, his voice wobbling.

"If there is one thing I have learned about ghosts," Ray says, "there is _nothing_ you boys can't do when you put your minds to it. I don't think Willie is all that different when it comes right down to it, even if he doesn't have the same magic that you do."

"I hope that's true," Alex says. "I really, really hope that's true."

"You'll find him, Alex. I'll help in any way I can. All of us will, you know that. We'll make sure you find him again." Ray squeezes his shoulder again.

Alex is quiet for a while before he finally nods. "Faith, huh?" he asks, raising his chin a little as he meets Ray's eyes again.

Ray nods. "Faith."


	6. Chapter 6

All Ray wants is a nice dinner. He doesn't think that's asking so much after a long Wednesday. The boys are in the studio working on a new song they're hoping to have ready for a club gig next week, and Flynn managed to escape the clutches of her visiting grandmother for long enough to sneak over and steal 'real food'. She and Julie and Carlos are attempting to eat their weight in tacos while Ray watches with both amusement and sympathy for their future selves.

The doorbell rings.

Julie pauses with her taco halfway to her mouth. Carlos stares, first at the door, then at his father. Flynn, being Flynn, says, "I didn't even know you _had_ a doorbell."

Which is fair, because it rarely gets used by anyone who would come and visit the Molinas.

Ray opens the door with some trepidation. But the face that greets him only makes him confused. "Carrie," he says. "Hi. Was Julie expecting you?"

The last Ray had heard, Carrie and Julie were mortal enemies and Julie would rather eat a razor blade than ever see Carrie again. That was a direct quote. Julie had been eleven.

"No," Carrie says. "But is she here?"

Julie appears at Ray's side, arms folded over her chest, frowning hard at the other girl. "What are you doing here?" Normally Ray would call her on her rudeness, but this is one fight he's not prepared to get too involved in, unless Julie asks for his help.

Carrie stares at Julie impassively for a moment, then wilts. "I need to talk to you. In private. It's important."

"Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of my family," Julie says, raising her chin as Flynn joins her and takes her hand, sisterly solidarity at its finest.

"Fine." Carrie swallows. "Can I at least come inside?"

"Fine." Julie steps aside, and Ray follows, allowing Carrie entry before he shuts the door again. It's strange, having her in the house again after so long. She and Julie used to be inseparable but that was a long time ago.

"Would you like a taco, Carrie? You came right in the middle of dinner." Ray ignores the betrayed look his daughter gives him and waves toward the table, but Carrie takes a step back, looking uncomfortable.

"No. Thank you, I don't want to intrude any more than I…I just came here to say a couple things and then I'll leave." She looks deeply unhappy, Ray can't help but notice. Nothing at all like the bouncy, joyful child he remembers. "First of all, Julie…" Carrie starts, then stops again. Then nods to herself, resolved. "Your band is amazing. I didn't want to admit it. I was jealous. I worked for ages to get Dirty Candy where we were, and you come along and sweep all of that work away like it's garbage, in a couple weeks. It sucked. But you earned it. You're incredible. I hate it, but it's the truth."

Julie stares at her, bewildered. She's still gripping Flynn's hand hard, like she'll float away if she doesn't have something holding her there. "Um. Wow, Carrie, that's…thank you."

"Whatever," Carrie says, waving the comment away, and Flynn snorts. "We're not friends. We will never be friends. I just wanted you to know that you're…a worthy rival."

"Okay," Julie says with a sigh. "Anything else?"

Carrie's eyes shift to Ray, and he can't help but notice that she looks troubled. More troubled than a conversation like this should warrant. "Is something the matter, Carrie Anne?" he asks softly.

"Nobody calls me that anymore," she says, her voice tight. She hugs her arms around herself and stares straight ahead, taking a few deep, even breaths before she manages to speak again. "My father was caught on camera talking to someone about his first album, and about how most of the songs were stolen. The news is going to break soon, and I just…I thought you should know."

"Me?" Julie's eyes are wide and confused. "Why would you think I—"

She is interrupted by a familiar _whoosh_ sound.

"Hey, Julie, we had this really great idea we wanted to ask you about—" Luke is already speaking, but Ray's eyes are on Reggie, who has immediately zeroed in on Carrie.

"Oh," Reggie says, cutting off Luke mid-word.

"Shit," Flynn finishes.

No one comments on her language, not even Carlos still seated at the table, and certainly not Ray, who is already thinking twelve steps ahead to damage control when Carrie's lips tilt in an ironic smirk.

"Because," she says, answering Julie's half-finished question. "My father is convinced that your band is made up of ghosts of the people he stole it from." She lifts an eyebrow. "Sunset Curve, I take it?"

"Tell your friends," Reggie says weakly. There's a beat of silence in which no one seems to know whether to laugh or hide, before Carrie visibly dismisses the ghosts and turns back to Julie.

"No matter what happens to my dad," she says, "their faces are about to be on every major music news site in the world. People are going to put it together, between your YouTube vid and the Orpheum show. I hope you're ready for _a lot_ of questions."

"As long as we have our music, we can face anything." Julie's chin is still lifted defiantly. "We're family."

"You know," Carrie says, "I hate that I believe that." She shakes her head, pushing her hair over her shoulder as she edges towards the door. "Anyway, that's all I came here to say."

Ray raises an eyebrow at Julie, who looks indecisive for about three seconds before she takes a clumsy step forward. "Wait, Carrie," she says, ignoring Flynn's hissed, " _No, don't do it, evil demon from Hell!_ "

Carrie sighs. "What?"

"Just…I know we're not friends. But…" She hesitates, then steels herself and says, "Stay and have a taco? Rivals should know each other, right? Well, I know all the girls in Dirty Candy, but you haven't met the guys from Julie and the Phantoms."

Ray is so damn proud of his girl. She never stops amazing him.

Carrie wavers. "Flynn looks like she might bite me if I try."

Flynn hisses agreeably, but subsides with minimal grumbling when Julie stomps on her foot.

"Okay, fine." Carrie sighs again. She looks tired, and worn, and worried, and Ray thinks she's giving in far more easily than she might have if those things were not true.

They move to the living room because there is far more space, and they all sit on the floor after Ray moves the coffee table out of the way because he values his couch far too much to risk it to tacos. Carlos, at least, looks delighted with this turn of events. So does Reggie. The rest look mostly bemused.

"So," Carrie finally says after taking a delicate bite of her taco, when the uncomfortable silence is about to grow unbearable and even Ray doesn't know how to ease it. "Introductions, I guess?"

"Oh, um. Sure." Julie reaches to her left for Luke's hand, and doesn't seem to notice the way Carrie's eyebrow lifts as she says, "This is Luke."

"Luke Patterson," Carrie notes. "You were the lead singer of your old band, right?"

Luke nods, looking both impressed and wary. "How'd you know that?"

Carrie shrugs, looking down at her taco. "After my dad got caught, he confessed everything to me, so I'd be ready before the news broke. How his bandmates died, and how he used it as an opportunity to steal their music and make a name for himself. I did my own digging into your band, found a copy of your demo someone uploaded to a streaming site." Her lips quirk. "It was good stuff. Better than my dad's, which I guess makes sense. You wrote all those songs?"

"All the ones I know about that were hits," Luke tells her.

"You're taking this…surprisingly well," Alex says. He's sitting cross-legged next to Carrie, peering at her curiously as he eats his own hastily-assembled taco.

"I had some time to come to terms with it," Carrie says with a huff of laughter that sounds bitter to Ray's ears. "Did you think there were no pictures of your old band floating around? The news articles about the night you died had a bunch, and it's not like you've changed much since then."

They all pause. "Somehow hadn't thought of that," Luke says, thoughtful.

"I knew," Carlos mumbles, and Reggie leans across Ray to high-five him.

"Anyway," Julie says, trying to keep her voice cheerful as she leads the conversation back around. "Next to you is Alex—" Alex waves. "—and the one sitting by my dad is Reggie." Reggie beams.

"Hi," Carrie says slowly, but she nods to each of them in turn. "And also, how are you so…"

"Visible?" Luke asks.

"Solid?" Alex follows up.

"Able to eat food?" Reggie tries, around his own mouthful of taco.

"… _present_ ," Carrie finally settles on.

They all look at each other. "No clue," Luke tells her.

"It's weird, right?" Reggie asks.

"Extremely," she agrees.

"Hey, Carrie," Alex says suddenly, and he sounds serious. "When your dad was telling you about his music, did he ever mention someone being involved? A man named Caleb, maybe?"

Ray watches Carrie closely, but there's not so much as a flicker across her expression, just a furrow that appears between her brows. "No," she says. "I don't think I've ever heard that name. Why?"

It's Julie who answers quickly. "No reason. Just a theory the guys had, but it's not important."

She doesn't look dismissive, Ray notes. She looks worried. Like she doesn't want the other girl involved in something that might get her hurt.

Carrie, Ray knows, is already going to get hurt no matter what. She's about to lose everything as her father's empire crumbles, and it won't just be his music that gets called into question. His daughter's future in the industry will be forever tainted by the news as well, once it breaks. If Julie hasn't realized it yet, Carrie certainly has. And yet she came here, to warn them. She is strong, Ray thinks, in ways her father has never known how to be.

"Would you like another taco, Carrie?" Ray asks, because it's all he can do, all she will allow him to do, and he already knows this.

"No," she says. "Thanks. But honestly, I think we've all been through enough trauma for one night."

Reggie snorts. "I mean, if we're talking traumatic, try eating street dogs before the biggest night of your life and then throwing up blood in the back of an ambulance with one best friend next to you already dead and the other dying and all you can think is 'well screw it, if we're going, we're going together', and then being stuck in a dark room until all of a sudden you're pulled back into the world and find out twenty-five years have passed. I mean, _that's_ traumatic. I'm not sure meeting friendly ghosts really compares. We're just like Casper but with bonus music!"

The ensuing silence is so deep and so fraught it feels like it might shatter into pieces. Ray finds himself putting a hand to his chest, holding it there like it will stop his heart from aching so deeply.

"Well," Carrie says after a beat, before anyone else can respond or extend the awkward, dreadful silence. She clears her throat. "I meant more the emotional devastation of knowing my whole life is about to go to hell while I'm sitting here playing nice with a bunch of people who despise me, but actually, that probably still doesn't really compare."

Reggie blinks, seeming to notice for the first time that everyone is staring at him. He looks around at the emotional ruin around him. Even Alex and Luke are staring at him, open-mouthed. Luke has tears in his eyes. Flushing, Reggie says, "Oh. I was doing the over-sharing thing, wasn't I? Sorry, guys." He looks back at Carrie, ashamed and apologetic. "And I'm sorry for you, too. I didn't mean to downplay your pain. It might not be the same as ours but that doesn't make it less important."

Carrie watches him for another long moment. "You're a surprising person, Reggie. Ghost. Whatever."

"Person-shaped ghost?" he offers, and somehow, it gets a laugh, a genuine one, Ray thinks. The tension in the air eases, just a little.

"I really should go, though," Carrie says, standing. "My dad doesn't know I left." She pauses and looks at the boys now standing around her. "I know my dad screwed you. It goes against everything he ever taught me about music. I'm sorry."

"It's not on you, Carrie," Alex says quietly.

"But thanks," Luke adds. "For telling us."

Reggie nods. "It was cool of you to come out here." He holds out his fist for a bump and Carrie, after a long moment, smirks and bumps her fist to his.

Then she turns to Ray. "It was nice to see you again, Mr. Molina. Thank you for the taco."

"Anytime, Carrie Anne," Ray responds, giving her a warm smile he hopes she takes as the open invitation it is.

"And Julie…" Carrie finally looks back at the girl who was once her best friend. "Just, um. Don't ever lose your passion."

Julie looks gobsmacked until Flynn pinches her arm, and then she swallows. "You too, Carrie. I mean it…don't ever stop fighting for your music. You're too good for that."

"I know." Carrie tosses her hair and nods to the rest of them. She's smiling as she leaves.

"Well that was…interesting," Flynn says in the ensuing silence.

"Poor Carrie," Reggie says.

"Poor _Carrie?_ " Flynn gags. "Ugh, have you been paying any attention since you poofed back into the world? Girl's a—"

"Nah, Reg's right," Luke says, shaking his head. "Not her fault her dad's a loser wannabe, but she's gonna get punished for it too."

Flynn grumbles, but finally admits that they're right with a sigh, leaning into Julie.

"It was good of her to come here," Julie offers tentatively, allowing Ray to pull her into a side-hug, because he knows how painful that must have been for his girl. "Although I have no idea what Trevor could have been thinking, after all this time keeping it so well hidden."

Ray wavers, but there's no real reason to keep this from her. "He was at your show at the Orpheum," he finally says, and Julie jerks away to stare at him. "I didn't think anything of it at the time, since I didn't know he was connected to your friends. But if he realized then that they were here, he may have panicked."

"If that's the reason, it's just as much our fault," Alex says. "With the whole haunting thing….writing _hello Bobby_ on his mirror—" Luke winces. "—and all that…he was pretty much primed to believe we were back here just to torment him."

"Then maybe he was talking to Caleb," Julie says, and everyone goes quiet again for a moment.

"Well there's a cheerful thought." Reggie's hand is fisted over to his chest, rubbing, and it seems the gesture means something to Julie because to reaches out to take his hand in her own, squeezing gently.

"You'll be okay," she says. "We're gonna make sure of it."

And though it's a promise they can't possibly make without knowing all the facts, Ray agrees. He and Julie are going to keep these boys safe. No matter what.


	7. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few housekeeping notes!  
> 1) You may have noticed that the chapter count jumped. Er...again. It won't effect the estimated word count or any of the plot, just had to do a bit of restructuring, so you get a bonus day of story?? :D???????  
> 2) This chapter is itty bitty, but provides a bit of necessary breathing room before...well. :) I hope it still makes you feel some feelings in its itty bittyness!  
> 3) Someone recently asked me if I'm on tumblr. I am! But I'm far more active on twitter, honestly. In either case, you can find me under breakaway71, and I'm always happy to have people come shout at me about my fandom joys!  
> 4) Just...thank you. It's been a really, really long time since I wrote a big story for a new fandom (we're talking early days of Teen Wolf, probably almost eight years ago), and you guys have made me feel so welcome and happy and I'm just so incredibly grateful to you for your comments and kudos and support. <3 <3 <3

The news breaks. Julie and the guys quietly decide to stop performing for a few weeks and let things settle – none of them are sure if it will help, but it can't hurt. Maybe, Reggie says, they'll get lucky and nobody _will_ put the pieces together. Because, like, who would believe they were ghosts anyway?

Ray appreciates his optimism.

It takes longer for them to begin to fade, but they do, of course. Whatever magic keeps them tethered to physical form can't work without Julie and their music, and practices out in the studio just don't have the same effect as playing for a crowd.

It seems to hit Reggie harder than usual, the day he tries to hug Carlos for getting an A+ on his math test, and instead phases through him. He looks sad for the rest of the evening, and doesn't say much to any of them before everyone finally retires to bed.

Ray putters around for a little longer that night, finishing up a tricky job for a client before he finally heads upstairs. He checks on Carlos first, finds him snoring away and smiles as he crosses the hall to Julie's door.

The scene that greets him is not the one he expects, but he thinks maybe he should have.

Luke is the first one he sees, propped up on a small mountain of pillows against the headboard of Julie's bed, his head tilted at an angle that, ghost or not, will probably leave him with an aching neck come morning. His legs are bent in such a way that Julie, tucked between them, can use his thigh as a pillow of her own, and indeed, the arm tucked underneath her is curled around his leg the same way she regularly curls it around her pillow. One of Luke's hands is buried in her curls, like he was running his fingers through them before falling asleep. Beside Julie, Reggie sleeps turned towards her, and together they form a pair of parentheses bracketing the hands they have clasped between them. Alex, not to be left out despite how crowded they already are, has pulled Julie's desk chair up to the bed and is seated in it, though he has slumped forward so he is more than half on the bed himself, his head is pillowed on his arm while his other hand rests at Julie's hip.

Julie's boys, protecting her even in dreams. Protecting her even when they should be protecting themselves.

If Ray was a different kind of father, he would put a stop to this immediately. Ban the boys from her room. Forbid them entry to the house, and begin doing regular checks to be sure she is adhering to the rules. Certainly if Victoria were here, she would demand he do exactly that. Even Rose would probably question this scene if she were still here to do so. Ray trusts his daughter, knows she is a smart girl, but even knowing that, he thinks he should be having a different reaction to this sight than he is.

But the Ray who stands here now knows too much about pain, and has seen the way it eats at all of them. And yet, here, he sees the way their faces are all softer with sleep, lines evening out and small smiles gracing their faces. He sees the way this closeness comforts them. He sees how much they need each other, and so he backs out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

As he slides into his own bed that night, Ray stares up at the ceiling for a long time, and then he reaches over to take the framed photo from the bedside table. Rose watches him from beneath the glass, her smile bright and beautiful, her eyes too knowing by half.

" _Rosa_ ," he sighs, and traces her face with his fingertips. "Please. Help me protect them." He kisses the photo, glass cold against his lips. "God, I wish you were here to tell me what to do. You would be better at this." He holds the frame to his chest and closes his eyes. A tear leaks down across his temple, towards his pillow. "I just want to keep them safe, but how can I do that when the worst has already happened to them?"

There is, of course, no answer, but he can imagine it easily enough. The way she would roll him onto his side and wrap herself around him, the way she'd whisper in his ear, _You're doing it all exactly right, Molina. Have a little faith. Isn't that what you told Alex?_

But even her voice in his head can only offer so much comfort, and Ray eventually slides into a troubled sleep still clutching the photo, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible is coming for his family.


	8. Chapter 8

"You okay, Dad?"

Ray looks up from his silent contemplation of the coffee cup in front of him and gives Reggie a small nod and a smaller smile. "I'm good, _mijo_ ," he says, not entirely honestly, but that's okay. Being strong for your kids is part of being a parent. "Have a seat. Thought you'd still be asleep, it's early. You boys looked conked out pretty good."

Reggie's eyes go wide and he stumbles. "Oh, I…we didn't, I mean, none of us meant to fall asleep but—"

"It's fine, Reggie," Ray says mildly. "If I worried, you'd have heard me shouting pretty loudly last night. Sometimes, you just need to be close to your family, yeah?"

"Yeah," Reggie says, sagging. What did he think Ray was going to do, exorcise him? Ray hides a smile. "Anyway, everybody else is still asleep, I just, you know. Too many thoughts. Didn't want to wake them up."

"I understand. Got a few too many thoughts of my own rolling around right now." He puts down his coffee mug, leans back in his chair. "What do you say kid, want to go clear our heads?"

Reggie looks up. "Yeah, definitely!"

"Beach shouldn't be too crowded yet." The more he thinks about it, the more Ray likes the idea of an early morning walk along the coast. Rose used to call it his thinking place, but really it was more like his _anti_ -thinking place. It sounds like exactly what he and Reggie both need right now.

Reggie phases into the passenger seat of the car for the ride, then messes happily with the radio until he lands on a country station Ray didn't even know existed. It's not a choice Ray would have expected, and not one he would have made himself, but he just smiles because Reggie looks happy for the first time since he started to fade last night.

There are only a few people on the beach, mostly early morning joggers. Ray strips off his shoes and leaves them in the car, wanting to feel the sand sift between his toes as they walk. It's nearly high tide, the sound of the waves soothing as they run up against the earth and sand. Ray and Reggie walk slowly, companionably, enjoying the cool breeze and the sounds of gulls off the water.

"We used to live on the beach," Reggie says after a while, kicking at a bit of seaweed. "Not this beach, it was a little further down the coast, but beaches always reminded me of home." Ray slows, an apology already on the tip of his tongue, but Reggie grins at him. "This is better. Now I have something good to think about instead when I come here."

"Ah, Reg," Ray says, wishing he could pull him into a hug. Yet even as they walk, Reggie is getting lighter, the sunbeams from the rising sun not illuminating him so much as passing through him. Soon he'll be gone from Ray's view, and he seems to realize it too, because he abruptly looks downcast and grows quiet again.

The waves crash. The morning brightens. More people begin to appear, but none take any notice of Ray or Reggie.

"You know," Ray offers after some time. "Not all that long ago, you were just a sad boy on my couch, a boy I only knew because you were friends with my Julie." He smiles, remembering that day, how unprepared he'd been to see a ghost in his living room. "I told you then that you were worthy of being loved, just for being who you were, for your generous heart and for everything you'd done for Julie. You remember? I told you that you were already family. Luke and Alex, too. I knew even then that you boys were a package deal."

Reggie is watching him as they walk, looking flustered and nervous, but he doesn't respond, clearly waiting to see where Ray is going with this. The only time, it seems, that Reggie feels sure of himself or his place is when he performs. And that breaks Ray's heart. If it takes his whole lifetime, he hopes he can see that change.

"Since then, Reggie…" Ray releases a slow breath and lets his smile widen as he shakes his head. "I don't think I expected it, but I've come to really think of you as my son, in all the ways that matter. And I hope that's okay with you because I'm not sure I could stop now. I can't hug you right now, or toss you into the ocean and have a good laugh when you come out looking like a drowned rat – I'm pretty sure that's a thing dads do, eh? – but even when I can't do those things, that doesn't change my mind. You are my son. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, just like for any of my children, and there are no lengths I wouldn't go to protect you. I just wanted to be sure you knew that."

Reggie is biting his lip, and even with the way he's becoming more and more wavery and transparent, Ray can see the shimmer of tears. "Dad…" he says, and then closes his eyes, brow furrowed, focusing until he manages to lean close and bump his shoulder against Ray's. "That's the best I got right now." He breathes out slow, fading again and looking tired, but his pale skin still flushes as he adds, "But, all that stuff, about seeing you as family, as…" He goes redder, staring very hard at the sand instead of looking anywhere in Ray's direction. "I really do think of you as my dad. I mean, you're a better dad than I ever had before. And I, um. I love you."

"I love you too, _mijo_."

The important things said, by unspoken agreement, they turn then and head back towards the car before the beach can get more crowded or Reggie disappears entirely. Ray feels good, better than he had when he'd spent the night tossing and turning, and he's glad they had this talk. There's no knowing what the next few weeks will bring, but at least Reggie knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he has a place to call home and people to call family outside of the band. Luke and Alex both have other people: Luke his reconnected parents, and Alex the possibility of his mother and sister and niece, and even the beginnings of a potential romance.

Reggie needs to know he has others as well, that he will never be left behind when it comes to people who care about him. Ray hopes some of that got through today.

The car comes into view just as Reggie loses his last grip on visibility, and there is a sigh from beside Ray.

"It's not forever, _mijo_ ," Ray says. "We'll get through, like always." He's about to say something else, but then he notices there is someone standing next to his car, leaning against the passenger side door. He slows, squints. "Isn't that Julie's friend? That boy from the garage party…Nick?"

"'Friend' is pushing it," Reggie says. He sounds uneasy. "Julie told Flynn he's been weird ever since she turned him down for a date. Like at first he was all respectful about it, and then totally not. He keeps bothering her. Flynn's been dying to let us loose on him for a good haunting, but Julie is too nice."

"Yes," Ray says darkly. "She is."

He has half a mind to go talk to this _Nick_ himself, except he knows Julie would disapprove. But it becomes a moot point when Nick sees Ray and tilts his head. There is a glint in his eyes and a smirk twisting his features that Ray doesn't like, and then Nick's gaze slides to space next to Ray…the space Ray knows Reggie is still standing, silent and invisible. Ray finds himself walking towards Nick before he's even aware of moving, alarm bells already clamoring in his head.

"Nick, right?" he says, as evenly as he can, but Nick ignores him completely.

"Well, well," he says directly to Reggie, sneering. "If it isn't one of my escaped musical cockroaches."

Ray can't see what Reggie's face looks like, but he can hear the fear in his voice when he says, " _Caleb?_ " and everything in Ray goes tense and cold.

"In the flesh," Nick – no, apparently _Caleb Covington_ – says, still smirking. "Or… _a_ flesh, anyway. Nick is surprisingly comfortable for an adolescent lifer. It's been a long time since I had to indulge in a good possession, but you never really lose your touch. And it was necessary, to keep an eye on you boys without you noticing. And oh, the things I've learned while doing so."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Reggie demands. Ray, without taking his eyes from Caleb, instinctively tries to put a hand on Reggie's arm. When he finds nothing to hold to, he clenches it into a fist and draws in a harsh breath.

"Why, who you _are_ , of course!" Caleb says, spreading his hands wide. "You know, when young Bobby made his deal, I admit, I was happy enough to take what was offered and not look too deeply at the people it effected – your precious _band_. But now that you've left me no other choice, I've learned so much. About Luke's leadership, the solace he finds in his lyrics, the _appallingly_ powerful force of his love. And Alex, the strength he has to – ahem – _stand tall_ and proud in being who he is, and his relentless hope, a force all its own." He pauses, an oil-slick smile spreading across his stolen face. The air next to Ray goes chilled, prickling along his skin in a rush of goosebumps. "And then there's you, Reginald. The weak link. The needy one, with your incessantly human desire for validation, and acceptance, and _family_." The word becomes a curse in Caleb's mouth. "You never understood that your lack of these things was a strength – oh, yes, you were _stronger_ without them, Reginald. Now? You're just an anchor, dragging your friends down with how much you need them as you all cling to your filthy humanity."

Ray has had more than enough of this. "No one," he growls, "talks to my kid like that. Not anyone, and definitely not some jumped up ghost with a Lucifer complex."

"Dad, no—" Reggie says, but it's too late. Ray is _done_.

"What did he bargain for, anyway?" Ray takes one angry step forward, then another, fists clenched at his sides. "What did Wilson want that caused you to murder three innocent kids?"

"Ah, figured that little piece out, did you?" Caleb shrugs, looking unconcerned with the rage Ray can feel pouring off himself in waves, filling him until all he sees is red. "What does anyone want? Fame, love, glory. Specifically, he wanted to be bigger than his bandmates would ever be." He makes a scoffing sound. "Unfortunately, those three had more talent in their pinky fingers than Robert had in his entire self, so…sacrifices had to be made. Price of doing business, I'm afraid. For what it's worth, it was never personal."

"It was personal to _us_ ," Reggie says. He sounds lost, and there's another whisper of cold air across the back of Ray's neck.

"You should leave," Ray says, his voice low as he takes another threatening step towards Caleb. "Get out of that poor kid you're possessing, go back to your club, and stay the hell away from my family."

"You know," Caleb says, almost thoughtfully, and then there's a sound like a thunderclap, and the next thing Ray knows he's being pressed against the door of his car with with Caleb's arm at his throat, Caleb leaning close to whisper into his ear, "You seem to be keeping company with an awful lot of ghosts. Perhaps theirs is a condition you'd like a little more familiarity with, before I break up the band for good."

Ray can hear Reggie yelling, can feel the cold battering at him and see Reggie flickering in his peripheral vision, but he already knows there's nothing Reggie can do against Caleb except get himself hurt, and Ray can't allow that. "Reggie, get out of here," he gasps before his air is cut off harshly.

"No, stay," Caleb says, his other hand shooting out. "I insist."

There's a pulse of purple light, a strangled gasp and a shimmer in the air like electricity, and Ray can't see him but he knows, he _knows_ his son is being tortured, can feel it down to his bones, and he begins to struggle, but it's useless, Caleb is supernaturally strong and Ray is only human.

Unable to fight with fists, he decides he'll try words instead. He manages to clamp a hand around Caleb's wrist ( _Nick's_ wrist, which is the only thing that stops him from trying to break it) and spits in his face. "You don't even realize you've already lost," he grits out, and for a moment, the hold on him loosens just the tiniest fraction and Caleb stares at him.

"What do you mean?" Caleb demands.

"I mean," Ray tells him through clenched teeth, still unable to move even if he can now breathe. "Your deal is already broken. Or didn't you see the news this week? People are talking about those boys across the country, around the _globe_ , and your precious little deal-maker? He's about to go from a simple has-been to an actual fraud. Their names will be shouted from rooftops and his will be buried and forgotten, and you're too damn late to stop it."

For a second Caleb looks so full of hatred that Ray thinks he's going to die, right there, without so much as a pause to whisper his goodbyes. But then Caleb jerks, and his hold loosens even more as he suddenly slumps over, his free hand clamping to his chest. There is a blinding flash of purple light and Caleb _howls_.

It is not a sound of pain. No, it is a sound of pure rage. When the flashing light beneath his breast dies out, he stays still for a long moment, panting. But when he straightens again, his eyes are crazed, and his hand is now around Ray's throat, the speed of it viper-fast and startling.

It's not a lack of air that strikes Ray in that moment – Caleb is holding him still, but he's not holding to strangle. Still, there's a sudden inexplicable weakness throughout Ray's entire body as Caleb's hand begins to glow with that same strange purple light. Ray gasps as the sunlit day around him grows dim, until he realizes it isn't actually the day darkening but his own vision. Yet even as he's thinking that, Reggie, still kneeling several feet away, becomes visible, and then more than visible…clear to Ray's eyes the way he only ever is when he's solid, after a big performance. It doesn't make sense, any more than the way Ray's knees abruptly buckle and he feels himself lifting _out_ and _away_. He hears Reggie screaming his name, over and over again.

Even with all that, it's not until Ray realizes that his body has slid to the ground, while he himself remains firmly pinned upright by Caleb, that he understands on some level what has happened.

 _Oh_ , he thinks, and his eyes find Reggie again. Reggie, who is staring at him in horror, mouth open and tears streaming down his cheeks. _It's okay_ , Ray wants to tell him. _I'm here. We're going to be okay._

Like he's in any position to promise such a thing.

"Now, Ray Molina, you and I are going to have a little chat," Caleb says, teeth bared, and for the first time, Ray feels genuinely afraid, thinking of the things he knows Caleb can do to other ghosts.

But then Caleb goes tense, a shiver passing over his skin as someone appears behind him…a young man with long, dark hair and a skateboard tucked under his arm.

 _Willie?_ Ray wonders, and it must be, surely there's no other ghost in Caleb's employ that fits this particular description. And he is walking towards Caleb with a look in his eyes that wavers between fierce and terrified.

"How did you get out?" Caleb growls, releasing Ray so he can turn and face the newcomer directly. "And what do you want? I'm busy."

Ray slumps against his car for a moment, taking a few shaky breaths (does he even need to breathe now, or is it just leftover habit?) before he uses this well-timed interruption to push away and make a break for Reggie. He drops to his knees hard beside the trembling boy and pulls him into his arms.

"Dad, _Dad_ , I'm so sorry, I'm so—" Reggie is sobbing the words into Ray's shoulder, even as Ray shushes him softly and tries to calm him.

"It's all right, _mijo_ ," Ray whispers, holding Reggie tightly and turning back over his shoulder to watch what's happening six feet away.

" _Well?_ " Caleb is demanding, crossing his arms. He should look ridiculous in the body he wears, with a baby face designed more for compassion than coldness. He doesn't.

"When your deal broke, your power fluctuated," Willie says. His voice shakes. "It wasn't more than a second, but it was enough for me to get out." His eyes slide to the right, find Ray's, and he nods to him before looking back to Caleb. "You're going to want to put this right."

Caleb scoffs. "And _why_ would I do that? In fact, why am I still talking to you?" He holds up a hand, fingers tensed like he's about to snap them, and Willie cries out.

"Because!" he yells, and Caleb pauses, looking somehow both bored and very, very angry. "Because…keeping him separated from his body without a natural death is using too much of your power. And you're going to want that power when your club starts burning." Willie swallows. "Which, uh. Should be any minute now. Because…see, Caleb, you forget that I know things. You've had me doing your dirty work for so long that I learned all kinds of secrets. Like, I know why the club is so important to you. I know the protection it offers, because it's where you bind all the bartered souls, and I know how it's the only thing that's kept you from being dragged away to whatever _after_ is waiting for you." Willie lifts his chin, a new glint in his eyes. "And I know something else, too."

Caleb's eyes are dark and hard and cold. "And what's _that?_ "

Willie grins, a tremulous little thing that somehow gains power under the force of Caleb's ire. "I know that I wasn't the only one who broke free."

Caleb roars. "I will _destroy_ you, you—" but Willie is already shaking his head.

"Maybe, yeah, but not right now. You won't do anything to me before you save your club. You won't risk it. Just like you won't risk leaving him in that half-life state." Willie's gaze doesn't waver, though it looks like it costs him, and he sags when Caleb finally looks away first, whirling away from Willie and glaring balefully down at Ray's body.

"It's going to be okay," Ray whispers to Reggie, and then he stands to meet Caleb, despite Reggie's cry.

"Well, _pendejo_ , seems you have a choice that needs making," Ray says, as mildly as he can. He does not look down, refuses to see his body lying there, so still.

"I will come for you and your island of misfit musicians," Caleb growls. "This isn't over."

"Oh, I'm counting on that," Ray agrees, and then Caleb's fingers are closing hard around his wrist, and everything is spinning, darkening, falling away, and the last thing he hears is Reggie's terrified cry of, " _Dad!_ "


	9. Chapter 9

"Oh. That smarts," Ray says, his voice raspier than it should be, both feeling and sounding like he's swallowed gravel. His head aches. His eyes ache. Actually, his entire body aches in all sorts of new and unpleasant ways, and it doesn't help that he's lying on the hard concrete of the parking lot.

The first thing he sees when he tentatively squints his eyes open is Reggie, staring down at him with a combination of fear and worry, and over his shoulder are three other boys all wearing similar expressions.

"Okay, come on, help an old man up," he says to Reggie, who seems startled for a second before he tentatively reaches down and grasps Ray's hand, tugging him up until Ray is able to sit propped against the rear tire of his car, breathing hard and feeling like he just ran a mile. "So getting temporarily turned into a ghost sucks. That's good to know."

" _Dude_ ," Luke says, kneeling down beside Reggie. "Are you feeling okay?"

 _No_ , Ray thinks, but knows better than to say it, especially with Reggie looking one wrong word away from a nervous breakdown. "I'll be fine," he says with a dismissive wave that hurts his everything. He's pretty sure it's true, anyway. Hopefully. "How long was I—"

"Just a minute," Alex says. "As soon as Caleb put you right, he left fast to get to his club, and whatever he was using to block us dropped so we could teleport here. Willie filled us in from there." He reaches out and grabs for Willie's hand, earning a startled but pleased glance from Willie himself.

"Pretty sure your boyfriend saved my life," Ray notes, hiding his smile at Alex's automatic stumbling protest and Willie's bright flush, and he nods to Willie. "Thank you. Also, it's nice to finally meet you."

"Oh! Uh. You too, Mr. Molina." Willie grips his skateboard a little more tightly. He also grips Alex's hand a little more tightly. Alex doesn't seem displeased by this.

"Maybe we could continue this back at the house? Where I can lie down?" Ray asks, wincing when he makes a tiny fraction of a motion towards standing. He gives it up as a lost cause for the moment. "Did any of you happen to acquire a license while you were alive?" Ray asks, because he can already tell this crippling exhaustion is not going to be conducive to making it home in one piece.

"Sure," Luke says. "But I'm not exactly solid enough that I should be driving." He hesitates. "Ray, nothing's changed since this morning. We weren't even visible to Flynn an hour ago."

Ray frowns, because they're all pretty damn visible to him, and when he reaches out, he pokes Luke in the arm hard enough for the boy to wince. "Huh," he says succinctly. Now that he thinks about it, the fact that he can still see Willie is probably strange, too. Julie was never able to see Willie …just her bandmates.

Luke nods slowly. "Okay, yeah, this is weird. Anyway, my control for moving stuff isn't great when we're just regular ghosts, so if I phase through the steering wheel at the wrong time…"

"Okay," Ray finally says, deciding not to think about dubious ghost magic until he's had some sleep. "We'll give it a few minutes, and then if necessary, I'll call Victoria." And wouldn't that be a fun conversation.

Luke clears his throat. "We're, um. We're really close to my parents' house," he says. "They might be able to help, if you need it."

Ray nods because that sounds much more appealing. The Pattersons know about the ghost stuff. They won't make him go to the hospital for something no doctor will be able to diagnose as an acute case of being dumped back into your own body after being yanked out by an angry ghost. His gaze goes back to Willie. "Are we safe for now?" he asks.

Willie nods, looking down. "You're safe for good unless something goes _way_ wrong. The club was already burning when I came here. There's no way Caleb got back in time to save it. There were a lot of angry ghosts in that place." He swallows. "And there are…consequences for ghosts who do what he did, stealing power to stay here too long and get more power. It's a dangerous cycle, and ghosts aren't supposed to be able to anyway. Caleb's been here a _long_ time, though, hiding from…something. I'm not sure what, but he let it slip more than once while I worked for him. Whatever it is, without the souls bound into his club to hide him, they'll come for him, I'm pretty sure."

Ray is not thinking about what that _something_ could be. Nope. Not today. And he's going to conveniently ignore Willie's _pretty sure_ as well. For now that's going to be good enough.

"I'll know, too, when it happens," Willie continues, quieter. "I have Caleb's mark branded on me. As soon as Caleb's gone, the mark vanishes and I'm…" He swallows.

"Free," Alex finishes for him, sounding awed, and looking overjoyed when Willie gives the smallest of nods.

"You know what, that all sounds very, beautifully convenient, and I'll take that right now," Ray sighs, leaning his head back tiredly. Reggie's hand falls to his shoulder, and he manages a small smile for him. "I'm okay, _mijo_."

"You risked your life," Reggie says in a small voice. "Just for… _me_."

"It's a dad's prerogative to risk his life for his kids when necessary," Ray says firmly, but he pulls Reggie down and into a loose hug, whispers, "Love you, kid."

"Dad of the _year_ ," Luke whistles, and Alex bobs his head in agreement. Even Willie looks impressed.

Ray wishes they didn't all seem so awe-struck, like the idea of a parent protecting their child is so strange and rare. He wisely doesn't say anything, though.

*

He manages to get himself home eventually, without having to bother either Luke's parents or his sister-in-law. Reggie keeps a close eye on him as he drives, and he takes it slower and more carefully than he's driven since he was sixteen.

Julie fusses over him as she hears the whole story from the boys, and at the end she drags him forcefully upstairs and orders him to bed. She looks pale, and doesn't listen to any of Ray's reassurances. His beautiful, stubborn girl.

"Dad," she whispers. "You can see them, touch them like I do. But it's not the same magic as mine…I can't see Willie. You actually _died_. You could have…" She stops, a hand pressed over her mouth that he reaches up to take between his own. She closes her eyes. "And whatever he did to you, what if there are more effects you don't know about yet?"

"Seems to just be a few more ghosts in my life," he tells her. "Julie. I'm fine. I'm fine, _mija_." But he allows her to press a kiss to his forehead and sing him to sleep like she and her mother used to do for Carlos.

"Please rest, _Papi_ ," she whispers, and he finally does.

*

"Ray. _Papi_. Open your eyes for me." It's a different voice speaking to him now, a different face he opens his eyes to, but one just as familiar and just as beloved.

" _Rosa_ ," he breathes, hands already rising to frame her face, drinking in the sight of her like a parched man in a desert. She smiles at him and somewhere, he knows, a heavenly chorus of angels begins to sing at the sight of it.

"I've missed you," she whispers. "So much."

He can't answer her past the storm of emotions clogging his throat, so he lowers his forehead to hers and breathes in her scent, burying a hand in those familiar curls.

"Am I dead?" he asks eventually. "Julie will be so angry with me if I lied to her."

Rose laughs, tilts her face up to kiss him sweetly. "No, not today. You have a good long time left, I think. The effects of Caleb's magic will wear off soon, and you'll be fine. No, this is just a visit, to say some things that need to be said."

It takes everything he has to pull away from her, even just enough to see her face. "Then tell me," he finally says, and she leads him to a couch so they can sit, holding each other close. Ray looks around for the first time and realizes they are in a familiar place – the Orpheum. But not the Orpheum as it was the last time he saw it, watching Julie perform. This is the Orpheum of twenty-five years ago. When he met Rose. "This is a dream?"

"Yes and no," she says, still smiling her small, secret smile. "But that's not important." She kisses him again, gently. "First, you should know that Caleb Covington won't bother you again. He's been taken care of." She sighs. "You were so brave, facing him, and I'm _so_ mad at you for it."

Ray immediately has dozens of questions, but she doesn't give him a chance to ask.

"There is a balance to the world," she explains. "To the living and the dead, life and afterlife. What Caleb was doing threw that balance into disarray. He had no unfinished business. He should never have been a ghost, but he refused to let go. The longer he fought, the more it twisted him. Nearly a century of causing deaths before their time, of stealing souls he had no right to." She sighs again, shaking her head. "Bobby told me one night, when he was very drunk, what he'd done. And so I knew what Caleb was, but what could I do? Who would believe the Puerto Rican girl telling stories, slandering a rock star, talking of evil spirits? But I never forgot, just like I never forgot those boys. When I crossed over, I was given my chance, and I took it."

"The band," Ray realizes. "The magic they have with Julie."

Rose nods. "They were already connected to her – so much of her love for music came from them, even if she did not know it. And it was a powerful connection even before I gave it a boost. The boys needed to deal with their unfinished business with Bobby, and Julie needed the boys to help her overcome her grief. I never believed in kismet when I was alive, but…" She shrugs, smiles again. "Hard to argue the results."

Ray thinks about that, then asks, slowly," So…what happens now?"

"Well." Rose tilts her head, closing her eyes for a moment. "That really depends. Caleb's gone. The souls he stole have been released. Many of his victims have already crossed over, and there's no more that can be done for them."

"And the ones that haven't?" Ray asks. He thinks of Alex, learning to be proud of who he is for the first time, trusting enough to put himself out there with Willie. He thinks of Luke, reconnecting with his parents, finding new ways to express himself with his music, forming something with Julie that Ray is sure neither of them were ready to find.

He thinks of Reggie, and all the ways he's begun to grow and flourish since Ray met him.

His heart aches.

"They have a choice to make, before balance can be fully restored. And that's all I'm allowed to say," Rose says gently. She cups his cheek with her hand. "Ah, _Papi_. I knew Julie would come to love them, but I never counted on you. They fill a hole in your heart just as they fill a hole in hers."

"Yes," he says.

She kisses him again. "I'm glad of it, and grateful to them. I wish I had more time to know them."

" _Rosa_ …"

She puts her fingers to his mouth. "I have to go now. But I want you to know, you've done everything right. I could not be prouder of you, or happier for you, and for Julie and Carlos." She pulls him to her again, and he tastes the salt of both of their tears on her lips. " _Te amo_ ," she whispers.

He wakes, his pillow damp, his heart heavy, but his soul somehow lighter. He lies still for several long moments, trying to imagine he can still smell her, feel her close by. But she's gone.

Before he can lose himself to melancholy, there is a crash from down the hall, and Ray is out of bed and flying for the door before he has fully processed the sound.

He finds Julie on the floor of her bedroom crouched over a prone Reggie, her eyes wide and afraid, tears staining her cheeks. She looks up as her father barges in. "We were sleeping," she explains, her voice wavering. "He needed the rest almost as much as you did, so I told him he could take a nap in here with me because neither of us wanted to be alone. But I woke up and he was…glowing, and making sounds like he was in pain. I tried to wake him up, but I couldn't, and he fell on the floor, and I don't know what's wrong with him. Is it Caleb?"

"No, _mija_ ," Ray says, because that's one thing he's reasonably sure about. This is not Caleb, but it could still mean anything. _They have a choice to make,_ , Rose had said. Ray kneels beside his daughter and puts a hand to Reggie's forehead, the same way he does for Carlos or Julie when they're sick. His skin is clammy and feels too warm.

Reggie's eyes flutter. "Ow," he mumbles.

"Reggie!" Julie cries, clutching at his arm.

"Can you sit up?" Ray asks as those green eyes finally slide all the way open and blink around, dazed.

"I…I feel different," Reggie says. He stares imploringly, _trustingly_ up at Ray. "Dad? I don't know what's—" He gasps. "Oh, _oh_ …"

"Reggie, what—" But Ray doesn't get to finish his question because Reggie grabs Ray's hand and presses it down onto his chest, right where there would be…

…right where there _is_ …

…a _heartbeat._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Three Months Later…** _

Ray finds Reggie while the boys are setting up for the party. None of them would ever admit it, but he thinks they sometimes miss the convenience of their instruments simply appearing right where they need to be, right when they need them to be there.

Flynn, who'd designated herself as roadie back when the band's equipment was nothing more than a small projector, definitely misses it, and does not hesitate to tell them so. Repeatedly.

"Got a second?" Ray asks when Reggie glances over and sees him in the studio doorway.

"Sure! Be right back, guys," he says to the others. Luke and Alex just wave him away, too busy bickering over moving Julie's piano to pay much attention. Julie glances over though, her eyes sparkling as she winks at her father.

Reggie follows Ray over to the garden stairs, where they can talk in relative privacy. "You have this totally serious face going on," Reggie says. "Is everything okay?" He still gets that worried look sometimes, even though Ray is _completely_ fine now, and has been for months.

"Fine. Good. Great, actually." Ray gives him a reassuring smile and draws a folded packet of papers from his back pocket. "So, now that social security finally got their butts in gear on reestablishing you as fine, upstanding members of society—" Reggie grins. "—there's just one more piece."

" _More_ paperwork? Dude, who knew coming back to life was this much work?" But Reggie's still grinning as he says it. "So what is it this time, demands for more blood samples? I swear they're vampires and it's all a cover. Or is it about the birth certificate, I knew that one would cause a problem, I—"

"Actually," Ray cuts in, holding the papers out. "Well. Take a look."

Reggie takes the packet with some trepidation, unfolding it carefully. When he sees the top of the first form, his breath hitches. "These…Dad, these are adoption papers," he says, quiet. Like he's afraid of shattering the moment. Or like he's afraid Ray handed him the wrong thing and will snatch them back any moment.

"I mean." Ray shrugs a little, hands shoved in his pockets. "You don't have to sign anything you don't want to, of course. And it'd be mostly symbolic anyway, you're almost eighteen even with all the crazy ghost time mixing it all up. But I thought…well, I told you that very first night that if we could find a way…although I admit it's easier now that you're a legal citizen again and not made of air." He tries for another smile.

" _Dad_." Reggie is flipping through the packet. "These are already signed." He looks back up, understanding darkening his eyes. "You found him?"

"I did."

"And he signed…just like that?"

The truth is, Jeremy Weekes was so horrified at the idea of his resurrected son that he'd all but thrown the papers back at Ray and told him to keep the _freak_ as far away as possible. Ray managed to refrain from punching him, but it was a close thing, and only because he'd already gotten what he wanted and didn't want to jeopardize that. None of that, though, is something Reggie needs to know. "He's old, _mijo_ , and wasted on drink. I'm not sure he understood exactly what I was asking."

"Bet he did," Reggie mumbles, but then he shrugs. "It doesn't really matter. I have a dad, and it was never him." He pulls a pen out of his pocket, uncaps it with his teeth, and signs all of the papers, including the one Ray had uncertainly placed at the end for a legal change of name, while standing right there on the steps. His hand trembles, but not enough to make his signature illegible, and when it’s done, he releases a slow breath. The tension in his shoulders ease, and a smile lights his face as he hands the packet back to Ray. "Wow. I um…I don't know what to say. Is there a thing I should say? Like, are there actual words for stuff like this?"

"I love you," Ray says, smiling truly now, his heart feeling big enough to burst out of him. He reaches out and tugs Reggie into a hug. "That's a good starting place. I love you, _mijo_. And you were my son long before any papers were signed. This just makes it official."

"Love you, Dad," Reggie says, burying his face in Ray's shoulder.

They stay that way for several long moments, before Ray claps Reggie on the back. "You better get back to them, party starts soon, yeah?"

Reggie nods, pulling away. His eyes are watery through his bright smile as he bounces away to share the news with his bandmates. Ray watches him go, feeling rather misty himself, then turns back to the house to distract himself with party preparation.

*

The Pattersons are the first to arrive, just as Ray is in the kitchen putting the final touches on the food. They come bearing cookies and hugs, both which Ray accepts gladly.

"They're in the studio," he tells them. "If you'd like to say hello before they get too wrapped up."

Emily laughs. "It's probably far too late for that," she says, shaking her head. "We'll see Luke after they've played, he's always in a good mood then anyway. But you, how are you doing? It's still not too much? No regrets?"

Ray smiles, patting her on the arm. "I appreciate the concern Emily, but honestly it's a joy having them all here. Has been all along. I know you probably wish Luke was home—"

"No," Emily shakes her head, offering a small smile of her own. "No, Luke's made it clear this is where he wants to be. And I think maybe it's the best thing for them, staying together right now. A little co-dependent, but…"

"But they've earned a little co-dependence," Ray says, nodding in understanding. Reggie and Luke and Alex had chosen to live together, just as they'd once chosen to die together. As far as Ray is concerned, they can stay together here for as long as they want to. He has the space, the food, and the love to spare for all of them. And if he continues to find all of them piled together in Julie's room at least two or three nights a week, well, he's pretty sure it's not hurting anyone for them to find comfort in that closeness.

"Is Willie coming tonight?" Emily asks. "Alex was so quiet last Sunday, we were worried."

"Willie is on a weekend trip with his twin sister, up in the mountains." Willie's been having a harder time adjusting to his second chance than the boys were. Ray doesn't know if it's just his circumstances being so different, or the length of time he was a ghost. It's been difficult to watch though, especially when Alex tears himself to pieces over it. Hopefully that will ease soon. Ray adds, "He called Alex this morning and asked if they could go on a date this week, though. Alex has been over the moon ever since."

"That's lovely to hear," Emily says with a sigh of relief. "That poor boy."

Ray doesn't know if she means Willie or Alex. Hell, she could be talking about any or all of them. So he simply nods.

"Come," he says to his guests. "Let's go see how the stars of tonight's show are doing."

*

Julie and Flynn put fairy lights up all over the yard earlier that day, and as dusk falls and the rest of their guests arrive, those lights sparkle and gleam as Julie comes to stand by Ray's side.

"Andi Parker called again while we were setting up," she tells him. "Third time this week."

"Well, she's persistent. You have to give her that," Ray says, amused.

Julie rolls her eyes. "She knows our terms. We don't sign anything unless we can play our music, our sound, full stop, no exceptions. She keeps saying how difficult that is to guarantee in the music industry, but I think she's coming around." Julie's grin is sly. "Probably helps that our last video has over three million hits, even without the 'hologram' gimmick."

"It's nice she isn't too put off by the recovered ghost thing," Ray says.

"Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure she thinks that's an actual dream. Something about how any marketing team could have a field day. 'The ultimate comeback kids'. Ugh." Julie sighs. "Which I don't get anyway because plenty of people don't even believe it."

"Yes, but plenty do." In the end, Ray knows, what matters is the music, and that speaks all for itself. "Just don't rush any decisions, _mija_ ," he says, slinging an arm around her in a sideways hug.

"I know." Of course she does. She's a smart kid, his Julie. "Hey," she adds, resting her head against his shoulder. "I've never seen Reggie so happy before. I'm really glad you did this for him. It means more to him than he'll ever tell you."

"I'm glad too," Ray says, kissing the top of her head. "And I think it means more to all of us." She nods, hugging him closer, no doubt thinking of her mom. They stay that way for a long moment, and then he nudges her. "Now go on, before your guests get restless and stage a revolt and we have to cancel. I've been looking forward to this all week."

Julie laughs, but goes.

Ray looks around at their guests, feeling content with everything the last few months have brought. The Pattersons stand together, holding hands and still unable to take their eyes off their son. Victoria is talking with Alex's mother while his sister chases after Alexa, who has crawled away after Carlos. Carrie, looking unsure of her place but here by Reggie's invitation, is trying to make conversation with Flynn, who looks wary but hasn't attacked yet, at least. There's an empty space where Willie should be, but Ray thinks that next time, he will be ready to be included, to be part of a crowd again and not just drifting invisibly through it.

Thing are not perfect, of course, despite the blessings. Coming back to life has been a paperwork nightmare for all the boys, and plenty of people remain skeptical despite the evidence of who they are. The legal battle with Bobby has been bitter and difficult for everyone involved. And Nick, Julie says, was so badly traumatized that he barely talks to anyone at school anymore, and can't even look at her.

But the good far outweighs the bad, and all the people surrounding Ray, who have become family by choice and by circumstance if they were not already by blood, proves that. Ray's life has become so much fuller these past several months. He could not ask for anything more.

"Thanks for coming, everyone," Julie says, stepping up to a microphone as she waves. She's wearing her mother's Sunset Curve t-shirt under a denim jacket and with dark jeans, all bedazzled, rhinestones twinkling from the lights spread all over the garage and yard. Luke, as usual, can't take his eyes off her, and Reggie, noticing, is shooting knowing smirks at Alex, who rolls his eyes and grins. "We're really glad you could be here," Julie continues. "We're going to start tonight's performance a little differently than normal, I hope you don't mind."

She takes a seat behind her piano and tosses a smile to Reggie, who grins and takes her place at the mic.

"Our first song is one we haven't played before because, uh, I just finished writing it last week," he says. Everyone chuckles, and he rubs the back of his neck, smile turning sheepish. "Julie and the Phantoms are dedicating this song to one Ray Molina. For me, he's the best dad anyone – ghost or human or otherwise – could ask for."

Tears prick at Ray's eyes, and his heart feels too big suddenly for his chest. He nods to Reggie, smiling wide enough to ache, the good kind of ache that comes from happiness that cannot be contained.

Reggie takes a deep breath, positions his guitar. "This is called _Home_."

The band strikes up the beat, and it's something a little softer than their usual fare, with a bit of country twang to it Ray is starting to appreciate. The group of people watching goes quiet.

Reggie Molina smiles and begins to sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the first chapter to the last, you have all been so amazing, leaving me kudos and comments that meant more to me than I can possibly say. I've said a few times that this is my first big story in a long while - the truth is, I was starting to think I'd never be inspired like this again. This show, these characters, and this fandom are a gift I never expected, and I am so grateful to all of you for helping to make it feel that way.
> 
> Thank you. Just... _thank you_.


	11. Artwork by Allarica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a lot of stories over the years that have meant a lot to me to finish, but this one was special. It gave something back to me I never thought I would find again. The moment it was completed, I wanted to do something special for it, so I asked my favorite artist how she would feel drawing my favorite scene, the first scene I envisioned so clearly when I set out to write Family Matters. Allarica sent me the completed piece today and I actually cried. I hope you guys enjoy this little surprise for a story you've given so much love to over the past weeks. ❤
> 
> Also a quick note! You may be confused by the name change - after many years and a lot of dithering, I finally changed my username on AO3 to match the rest of my social media presence, so it has changed from morganoconner to breakaway71. Sorry for any confusion!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/134706723@N02/50521303411/in/dateposted-public/)  


_Julie's boys, protecting her even in dreams._

**Please visit Allarica's post[HERE](https://www.instagram.com/p/CGsSSKsJS0b/) to shower this with all the love it deserves!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 11/5/20:  
> GUYS GUYS GUYS beedragony also did a really wonderful illustration of the opening scene from the story and I am CRYING! Go leave them love [HERE](https://beedragony.tumblr.com/post/634003137565507584/i-read-family-matters-today-and-immediately-fell)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [catch up, got no time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26971285) by [littleboxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/littleboxes)




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